


Head of the River

by everyl1ttleth1ng



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arya and Gendry spend time together in a boat, F/M, Fluff, Gendry is rowing, School Principal/Head Rowing Coach AU, feels sort of cathartic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2020-05-28 06:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19388347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyl1ttleth1ng/pseuds/everyl1ttleth1ng
Summary: Gendry Waters, multiple Pan Westeros Games gold medal winning rower, has been the highly successful and well-loved Director of Rowing at the exclusive Riverlands Grammar School for six years now. Ser Davos Seaworth has very recently retired as school principal and been replaced by the much younger multiple gold medal winning fencer from the North, Dr Arya Stark.One morning Gendry finds himself approached by his new boss. She wants him to teach her how to row.(In which Gendry is still rowing AND Gendry and Arya spend time in a boat together.)





	1. Chapter 1

4am was Gendry’s second favourite time of the day. 

Padding about barefoot in the dark, getting himself a cup of tea in his flat above the boathouse, drinking it on the balcony to the quiet burbling of the river running beneath.

Half an hour of the yoga his mates had always ribbed him about but which he knew kept his mind clear and his body strong. 

A thick slice of grainy sourdough toast slathered in the most expensive fancy butter he could afford (this job had made him soft), two poached eggs with cracked pepper.

A hard five minutes only to check his phone for messages and his laptop for emails - he doubted many of the other school staff received the bulk of their correspondence before 5am each morning.

Into his comfiest old shorts, singlet and splash jacket, jogging down the stairs in time to see a faint blush of light just tinting the horizon. 

Unlocking the boatshed, pulling out his scull, sliding into the water, locking in his oars and hitting his rhythm before 5am - his _favourite_ favourite time of the day. 

Gendry loved the river, its steady inexorable movement, the dappled light on the water, the trees reaching their branches towards one another trying to bridge the distance between them. He loved the push and pull of the movement required to propel his boat through the water, the unperturbed calm of the natural world around him, losing himself in the rhythm.

A new addition to this routine, only for a month or two now, had been his observation of the 4:55am on-the-dot purr of an engine - a yellow sports car gliding past. Riverlands Grammar School’s new principle, Dr Arya Stark, driving at the crack of dawn (or “the sparrow’s fart” as Tormund liked to call it) from the Principal’s Residence hidden deep within the extensive grounds to begin her day up at the main campus.

A new school principal hadn’t made that much difference to Gendry’s existence. He’d been Director of Rowing at Riverlands for six years now, widely agreed to be the savviest staff appointment that the previous Head of School, Ser Davos Seaworth, had seen fit to make in what some staff condescendingly referred to as “his declining years”.

Gendry loved Davos. The older man had liked to end the occasional long school day drinking Gendry’s scotch on the boathouse balcony. Given that Davos himself kept Gendry in constant supply of the best scotch money could buy, Gendry was in no position to refuse him. Nor would he have wanted to. In the early years of Davos’ career, he’d been Gendry’s own rowing coach, plucking him from relative obscurity in Flea Bottom, ensuring he got a prestigious scholarship to Storm’s End College, and cheering him on later as he took home gold after gold, representing the Stormlands at every Pan Westeros Games. He’d won three times in the double scull with various partners and four times in the single.

This was an achievement Gendry had in common with his new principal. Dr Stark herself had won a number of fencing gold medals for the North, competing year after year in her youth in the Individual Sabre. 

He remembered seeing her fight on the television. She was utterly relentless. He hadn’t doubted for a minute that Arya Stark had the skill and the grit to kill if the circumstances demanded it. Gendry doubted he’d ever get to compare notes on the Games with her but he felt they shared a distant kinship nonetheless. 

Since his shoulder injury, Gendry had had to give up the double scull that he loved so much. Tormund’s enormous strength, strength that he’d never before had a second’s trouble matching before he did his shoulder, was far too much for him in his recovery. 

Tormund claimed he was happier sleeping in anyway and there _was_ something to be said for the peace.

By 5:50am, the sun now lighting the surface of the river blindingly ablaze, the kids were starting to dribble down to the boathouse, raised arms shielding their eyes. Gendry coasted in to the boat ramp, pulled up his scull and dragged it over to rinse and store away, ready to get his teams in the water.

You couldn’t be a rower if you weren’t a morning person.

Ygritte, Tormund, Edd, Anguy, Grey Worm, Missandei and the rest of his coaching staff had already assembled, drunk coffee, shared memes, stretched and begun taking attendance, leading warm-ups, pulling out sculls and teaming up kids for training. 

Parents caught one another as they passed on the river bank, swapping school gossip and spots on the boat loading roster for the various upcoming weekend regattas.

The student rowing captain, Shireen Baratheon, a fearless girl with a heart of gold, was rushing around consulting the sixth formers about what sort of jersey they should order to commemorate their final year at Riverlands.

“Oi, Sir, were you in assembly yesterday to hear the rap Dr Stark gave the rowing team?” she asked as Gendry fetched his clipboard to consult the morning schedule.

“We’re heroes apparently,” added another voice. “And according to Dr Stark, all of the students at Riverlands could stand to benefit from your leadership and example.”

“Mine personally?” he murmured, eyes still on his clipboard. “I’m not even sure that she and I have met.”

“She said that. She told the whole school that she’s looking forward to meeting you.”

Gendry checked that the double sculls were ready to put in the water and the his pairs were getting in position. He was only half paying attention. Students could go on with a lot of rubbish sometimes. “Hmmm, what brought that on do you think?”

Shireen shrugged. “Maybe because I qualified for next year’s Riverlands rowing team for the Pan Westeros Games and I told her it was all thanks to you?”

“What?” demanded Gendry, suddenly snapping into focus. “You qualified, Shireen? And when exactly were you going to tell me?”

She smiled sweetly at him. “Right now, Mr Waters. Turns out I’ve qualified for the Pan Westeros Games representing Riverlands in rowing and it’s all thanks to you!”

Gendry yanked at the whistle around his neck and blasted it a few times. He grabbed Shireen’s hand and held it up triumphantly as if they were standing side-by-side on a podium. “Did everyone hear Shireen’s news?” he yelled. 

Whoops and shouts of celebration went up from the rest of the rowers. Tormund launched the gathered crowd into three cheers.

Gendry dropped their victory stance so that he could shake her hand properly. 

“I really am thrilled for you, Shireen. That is the most fantastic news!”

“Dad called Mr Seaworth last night to tell him,” she said. Shireen’s father was Head of the School Board and had always been a great supporter of his, always happy to tow a trailer of boats to regattas no matter how far the drive. 

“Mr Seaworth was so proud of me, Dad said he could hear him crying over the phone. He made a big deal of telling Seaworth how thankful we all are that he brought you to our school and Seaworth made Dad promise we’d send his regards to you.”

Gendry nodded, still grinning in a way he thought would probably stay with him the rest of the week. “Thanks, Shireen. That’s so kind of you. But you deserve this. You’ve worked for it. Really, you have. No one’s seen that more clearly than me.”

“Thanks, sir,” she replied, smiling bashfully. “I’m pretty excited!”

“So you should be!” he enthused. “The Games are amazing! It’s the experience of a lifetime!”

“That’s what Dr Stark said!” Shireen gushed. “I’d be surprised if it’s long before she comes to say hello to you, sir. Dad and I raved so much about you. She hadn’t realised her Director of Rowing was another Pan Westerosi Champion.”

Gendry shook his head. “She’s a busy woman, Shireen. But I’m sure you’re right. She and I will have to meet eventually.”


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Gendry jogged down the stairs, keys in hand, ready to open the boathouse. To his surprise, the sensor lights were already on before he triggered them.

Standing alone on the boat ramp, gazing out at the morning blush across the river stood a slight figure, her dark hair gleaming in the boatshed lights.

Gendry cast a quick glance up the river bank and noticed an unmistakeable yellow sports car parked between his battered white pick-up and the row of boat trailers.

He coughed politely so as not to startle her.

“Mr Waters.” She turned to greet him, extending her hand for him to shake. She looked even more petite in person. “I’m sorry I haven’t popped by to meet you yet, I’m-”

“-Dr Stark,” he interjected. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

She smiled. “Just Arya is fine.”

“Then I’m just Gendry,” he replied, smiling back. “Thanks for being so encouraging of Shireen Baratheon the other day. She came down here yesterday morning singing your praises.”

Arya gave him a quizzical look. “Was it  _ my _ praises she was singing? Shireen and her father spent a delightful hour in my office telling me all about how wonderful  _ you _ are. It’s on the strength of their recommendation, actually, that I felt I had to make the time to come and meet you.”

Gendry scratched at the back of his neck, uncertain what to say.

Thankfully, the new principal of Riverlands Grammar seemed to be a woman who was never lost for words.

“I understand we’re both Pan Westerosi alumni,” she said. “Though it’s been a long time since for me.”

“Even longer for me,” Gendry replied. “I haven’t competed for a decade now, not at that level. You were on the podium five years ago if I remember rightly.”

Arya grinned. “That’s right, I suppose. It was extremely accommodating of Winterfell School to give me the time to compete.”

“It’s not every school can boast their principal is competing in the Games. They’d have been fools to stand in your way. Besides, after seeing you with a sabre in your hand, I think I’d struggle to bring myself to quibble with you about anything.”

His boss laughed. “I’ll admit, I never seemed to have much trouble with student behaviour.”

“No surprises there.”

“Now, Mr Waters-”

“-Gendry.”

“Gendry,” she said, “I’ve actually come with a favour to ask.”

“Ask away,” he replied, grinning. “Like the students, I’m probably not brave enough to deny you anything.”

“Well, I wondered if- if you might- perhaps be willing to, if you have the time that is, to teach me to row.”

Gendry looked back at her in silence a moment. “Me? Teach you?”

“I’ve seen you every morning on the water. I don’t want to impose on your training but I wondered-”

He suddenly smiled. “As it happens, I could use a double scull partner,” he said, wondering where he found the boldness.

“Really?” she asked eagerly.

“I’ve injured my shoulder, see. Usually I’d row with Tormund-”

“- The big red-headed fellow?”

Gendry nodded. “That’s the one. But he’s too strong for me until I’m a lot further on in my recovery. I do love rowing alone, but I’ve been missing my doubles training. There’s nothing like rowing in sync with a partner. You’re strong, I’ve seen it, but as a beginner I’m probably a fair match for you.”

He looked at her outfit. Tracksuit pants, a fitted t-shirt and a hoodie. 

“Have you come ready to row? We could start now if you want?”

She suddenly looked down at her outfit too as if trying to remember what she was wearing. 

“Oh, this? I arrive in this sort of thing every day. I like to spend the first hour or so on the treadmill at my standing desk. You’d laugh if you got a look inside those imposing dark wood panelled cupboards in my office. They’re overflowing with suits and heels and jewelry.”

Gendry laughed. “Better than having to have all that in your wardrobe at home I’d have thought.”

“Exactly!” Arya breathed. “At home I can pretend I just play sport and watch movies.”

He stood and looked at her for a moment before suddenly snapping into action. “Well, shall we get out a scull?”

“I can’t imagine I’ll have anything like sea legs,” she warned. “Are you sure this is ok?”

“No better time to start!” he said cheerfully, unlocking the boatshed and heaving open the doors.

He surprised himself noticing how much he enjoyed walking past his single scull in favour of the double.

He went to pull it out and there she was, right beside him. The two of them maneuvered the scull out of its storage bay and down onto the boat ramp.

“Want a bit of theory to start off with?” Gendry asked, handing her a pair of oars.

“Sure,” she agreed. 

“Great. Let’s get this adjusted to suit you.” 

It took a bit of fiddling about and some awkward brushing of his hands against her lower legs but eventually he got things altered enough to suit her small stature.

He stepped back, watched her climb daintily into the scull and once she was settled, he stepped in behind her.

“We call this bit the shell,” he said, slapping the carbon-fibre reinforced plastic, “And we’re currently facing the stern. Our oars are held in place by oarlocks and we’re going to use them to propel the boat forward, that is towards the bow, over your shoulder behind me.”

“Got it,” she said, nodding. “It’s all about core balance, right?”

“Yeah, but physical strength, flexibility, and cardiovascular endurance are equally important. Everything you bring from fencing will work for you just as well in a boat.”

“Like I said, Gendry, it’s been a while.”

“You still look like you could take me,” Gendry shot back and then suddenly heard what he’d said. “Err, I mean- I just mean, you look fit- No, not that. Umm, I mean you  _ do _ look fit. You know, like you’re strong, in good condition. Oh, gods, Dr Stark, you look like you could probably kill me with your bare hands to be honest. Sorry. I’ll shut up now.”

When he finally finished talking he realised Arya was doubled over giggling at him.

“I needed a laugh, Gendry,” she finally said, grinning over her shoulder at him. “Honestly, coming out here this morning was the best decision I’ve made. Go on. More theory please.”

Gendry was so relieved his employer was going to overlook his idiocy - that she even seemed to  _ appreciate _ his idiocy - that he wasted no more of her time. 

“Maybe hop out for a moment now so you can watch what I’m doing?”

She nodded, pushing herself out of the shell and standing back, out of the sweep of the oars.

“Alright,” he said, “In sculling each rower has two oars or sculls, one in each hand. The oar in the your right hand extends to port, and the oar in your left hand extends to starboard.”

“Right,” she said nodding, then pointed at each compass point of the boat as she said, “Stern, port, bow, starboard?”

“Exactly. Now let’s talk about the anatomy of a stroke. You’ve got two fundamental reference points: The catch, which is your placement of the oar blade in the water, and the extraction, or the finish or release, when you remove the oar blade from the water. That action between catch and release is the first part of the stroke that actually propels the boat. Make sense?”

She was watching his every movement intently as he spoke. “Absolutely.”

He demonstrated each movement as he explained. “At the catch you place the blade in the water and apply pressure to the oar by pushing your seat toward the bow of the boat and you do that by extending your legs, like this. That’s what pushes the boat through the water. It’s a relatively fixed point, where your oar works as a lever to propel your boat. As your legs become fully extended, you pivot your torso toward the bow and then finally pull your arms towards your chest. Your hands should meet your chest right above your diaphragm, like this. Got it?”

“That’s just like how you look when I see you out here every morning,” she agreed.

“Shouldn’t you have your eyes on the road?” he asked playfully.

She smiled and shrugged but Gendry worried he’d crossed a line when he saw her cheeks turning pink. He rushed on with his instruction.

“And at the end of the stroke, with the blade still in the water, your hands drop slightly to unload the water from the oar so that the spring energy stored in the bend of the oar gets transferred to the boat. That makes it easier for you to get the oar out of the water and it stops you wasting your energy splashing about.”

“I can absolutely visualise it,” she said, nodding. “Then what?”

“Then your recovery: You’ve extracted your oar now you need to coordinate your body movements so that you can move the oar back to the catch position. You push down on the oar handle to lift the blade from the water and quickly rotate it so that the blade is parallel to the water. Some people call this ‘feathering the blade’. At the same time, you push the oar handle away from your chest. The blade comes out of the water square and feathers immediately once you’ve got it clear of the water. After feathering and extending your arms, you pivot your body forward. Once your hands are past your knees, you bend your knees, like this, moving your seat towards the stern of the boat. This happens slowly compared to the rest of the stroke giving you a moment to recover, and allows the boat to glide through the water. That’s what we call the run.”

“And then you begin it all over again?”

Gendry climbed out of the scull so they could move it to the water. “And again and again and again. Want to give it a try?”

Arya stepped tentatively forward to help him.

“Grab your sunnies if you’ve got them. When that sun fully comes up it’s blinding for the first hour or so.”

She rifled through her bag and produced a pair of dark glasses which she hooked onto the neckline of her t-shirt. 

“What are the chances I’ll capsize us?” she asked nervously.

“I won’t let that happen, Arya,” Gendry assured her. “I promise.”

“But if I do?” she asked. “If I’m especially clumsy this morning?”

Gendry grinned. “I guess I’ll have to dig out some dry clothes for you.”

Arya looked up at him from down near his elbow. “Gendry, I don’t think that’s really going to work, do you?”

He chuckled. “That’s just one more reason why we don’t want to capsize.” He pushed the boat out into the water. “Here, take my hand.”

Arya reached for him and with his help gingerly lowered herself back into the shell.

In a second he was settled behind her, adjusting his oars.

He looked up to see her gazing over at where the sun rose over the river. 

“It’s absolutely stunning here isn’t it,” she said quietly.

“And I get to wake up to it every single day,” he said proudly.

“You’re not going to mind if I join you?”

“Why don’t we see how this goes before I answer that,” he replied.

Arya laughed. “Sounds fair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you learn to row from Wikipedia...


	3. Chapter 3

It took them a while until Arya began to catch the rhythm. At first Gendry trained his oars along the shell and just concentrated his attention on helping her get the push and pull motion of the slide of the seat and the dip and pull of the oars. 

This was how he always started with a new rower, so it felt simultaneously incredibly familiar and yet staggeringly foreign. She was strong, that was immediately apparent. She was determined and intuitive and he could almost feel her mind working, such was the intensity of her focus.

Before long, even on the dawn chill of the river, they warmed up enough to pause and remove their jackets. Gendry realised it wasn’t a t-shirt but a tight-fitting singlet under Arya’s hoodie and for the remainder of their morning he watched the contracting and relaxing of the hard muscles in her arms, shoulders and back as she worked.

Within half an hour the two of them had established a consistent enough rhythm that they could even manage conversation at the same time.

“This is your sixth year at Riverlands, is that right?” Arya asked him as they glided through the water.

“Yep,” he replied. “Best job I’ve had yet.”

“How does it compare to the Stormlands?” she asked, “Do you miss it?”

Gendry thought for a moment. “I used to,” he replied as they rowed back towards the boat shed. “It was a bit of an adjustment at first. But Davos set me up so well here and gave me everything I needed to succeed. I have an amazing infrastructure, an incredible team and so much support from the school community. And look at my flat up there. Can you imagine a better place to live?”

“It does look cosy,” she agreed.

“How about you? How are you finding the change after Winterfell?”

“I miss it terribly,” she admitted. “The North will always be my home but I am slowly finding a few things to enjoy about the Riverlands.”

“I suppose it isn’t the chilly mornings that bother you.”

“No,” she laughed. “It’s almost always too hot here!”

“The principal’s residence is nice,” he observed. “Davos and Marya used to take pity on me and feed me now and again.”

“It feels a bit big for just me,” she replied. “And I can’t say I’ve got Marya’s talent for gardening. I had to hand control over to the school maintenance staff within the first few weeks.”

“Gardening’s not everyone’s thing, I suppose. I’ve killed cactuses before so I’ve every sympathy for you. What about the school? Are you enjoying the job?”

Arya sighed. “It’s a wonderful job, but it’s not without its challenges.”

“You’re noticeably young and fresh after Davos. I bet that has its upsides and its downsides.”

She laughed. “You’re pretty perceptive aren’t you, Gendry?”

“Must be nice to have that waiting list to fall back on, at least,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, aren’t there fifty to a hundred kids waiting to get acceptance into every year level?” he replied. “I remember Davos used to really enjoy saying to the trickier parents, ‘Well, if you’re telling me you’re unhappy with the way things are run here, there are plenty of young people waiting to take your child’s place.’ That usually shut them up.”

Arya was silent a moment as they guided the shell to slide up to the boat ramp. 

“Thank you, Gendry,” she said eventually, taking his offered hand to help her out of the boat. “I think that little insight is going to come in quite handy.”

She stretched out her muscles and rolled her shoulders a few times before untying her hoodie from around her waist and wrapping it back around her as her body cooled down.

“Glad to be of service, Dr Stark,” he replied, grinning. “Can I get you a tea or coffee or anything before you get going?”

“As I’ve said more than I wanted to this morning, Gendry, it’s Arya.” She looked at her watch as if weighing whether or not she had time. “Better not take you up on that offer this morning,” she said eventually, “but this has been such a wonderful start to my day. Thank you.”

Gendry grinned at her. “Same time tomorrow?”

“So you’ll have me back?” she asked, her grey eyes watching him. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “I told you, I’ve missed the double scull. And I know it’s only been one morning but I think we might work quite nicely together.”

“I think you might be right.” She smiled at him a moment before looking up and noticing the rest of the rowing staff arriving. 

“Have you got just a moment to meet my team?” Gendry asked.

“Of course,” she nodded. “I was just about to ask you to introduce me.”

The rowing coaches were eager to meet the new principal but just as eager to meet such a renowned sporting figure. She seemed to enjoy getting to talk about fencing and competing by people who had a real handle on it all.

“Do you know,” she said, just as she farewelled them all to walk to her car, “I think this is going to be a real haven for me in this place.”

Gendry waved as she walked up the river bank and he could have sworn she gave him a wink in return.

“Cosy with the boss lady already, eh mate?” Tormund observed, but Gendry couldn’t bring himself to ask if the big ginger had seen it too. “I’ll try not to be too offended that you’ve replaced me.”

“Well, she’s a bit less likely to rip my shoulder apart,” replied Gendry.

Tormund laughed. “I suppose I can see that.”

“She’s great, you know,” he said. “I think she’s going to do a really wonderful job here. And she loves what we’re doing.”

“May the golden age of Riverlands rowing continue!” Tormund cried.

“I’ll drink to that!” Gendry agreed, dragging his double scull over for a rinse.

...

Gendry’s head popped off the pillow even earlier than usual the following morning. What had started as any ordinary week had now included his rowing captain getting selected to represent the Riverlands at the Pan Westeros Games, significant accolades in front of the whole school community as well as personal praise from Shireen, her father and Davos Seaworth, and now a double scull partner  _ and _ an ongoing opportunity to enter into a friendship with his new boss, his highly impressive fellow gold winner, Dr Arya Stark.

He felt giddy tiptoeing about his place in the dark, found himself almost too flighty to knuckle down to his yoga and was consequently dressed and jogging down the stairs to unlock the boatshed fifteen minutes earlier than usual. As he had somehow expected, the security lights had already been triggered and there was Arya, waiting for him.

“I’m early, aren’t I. Sorry,” she said. “I just found myself so eager to get back on the water this morning.”

Gendry grinned. “Don’t apologise! I’ve been looking forward to it too! It’s so nice to have a partner again.”

“And I suppose I didn’t manage to capsize us,” Arya laughed.

He shook his head as he unlocked the boatshed and pulled open the big double doors. “The difference between training you - a world-class athlete - and training one of our new recruits is staggering,” he said. “I’ll take you over one of the first formers any day!”

“I suppose that’s a compliment, then?”

“Not much of one, I know, but it’s the best I can do this early in your rowing career.”

She followed him into the shed and together they lifted out Gendry’s double scull and carried it toward the water, going back for oars.

It took them only half as long to hit a good rhythm and Gendry noticed that once she’d found it, he could really let himself relax into the pace they’d set. 

“You’ve got great consistency, you know,” he said. “I’m impressed with the way you’re keeping this up on only your second try.”

“Am I fooling you into thinking I’m not having to work bloody hard?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Nope,” Gendry replied with a chuckle, “But just ‘cause someone’s working bloody hard doesn’t always mean they’re also succeeding.”

“And I am?” Arya asked, a hint of pride in her voice.

“You are!” he enthused. “Were you sore when you woke up this morning?”

“Nothing a blistering hot shower couldn’t fix,” Arya replied.

“See, that’s a great sign. Usually a new rower would be stiff and sore for a week after the session we did yesterday. The muscles you use most for rowing are obviously in great condition.”

“Well, that’s good then I suppose. Now, while I’ve got you, I noticed we’ve got this Annual Rowing Dinner coming up on the calendar. What’s that all about?”

“Oh, gods,” Gendry sighed. “The Yule Ball.”

“Isn’t that a Harry Potter thing?” Arya asked, confused.

“That’s what the kids call it,” he explained. “Because everyone gets all dressed up and there’s lots of fussing about who’s going with who and it just means my best rowers are completely distracted in the most important weeks of racing, trying to catch one another’s eye when they should be knuckling down to perfecting their strokes.”

“I see that you’re obviously a total romantic,” Arya laughed.

Gendry made a gagging sound. “Not where the students are concerned, thanks all the same. They can leave school and have all the romances they want but if I catch another pair of my rowers snogging in the boatshed, I’ll have a thing or two to say about it!”

“And do you get all dressed up too?” she asked.

“Davos and Marya kitted me out with a lovely navy suit when I first got the job. It’s possibly a bit moth-eaten by now but I only have to get it out four or five times a year so it still does the trick.”

Arya sighed. “One suit! I envy you! So little to think about!”

“I bet you have to have a closet full of fancy clothes.”

“Thankfully, I have a sister who is right into fashion. She knows my measurements and, man, does she love to shop. I swear a new gown arrives for me every second week. But then, of course, I have to decide between them. And it’s hard to pick the right outfit to wear to these occasions, you know? At Winterfell I always knew what was expected. Here, I’m still treading carefully, working it all out. I don’t want to make a mistake.”

“Not sure I can be much use to you on that point.”

“What if I just sent you some pictures of the gowns?” Arya asked tentatively. “Do you think you’d be able to tell me if they’re the same sort of thing the other staff and parents wear to these events?”

Gendry laughed. “I think you’re giving my powers of observation a good deal too much credit!”

“Fair enough.” Arya sounded disappointed.

“What if we asked Ygritte or Missandei?” he suggested. “They’re rough as guts out here on the river, well, Ygritte is at least, but they scrub up nice for the dinner every year.”

“Alright,” she agreed eagerly. “Good tip. Thanks, Gendry, I’ll ask them.”

He couldn’t help but notice the loneliness her words hinted at.

“Have you made some friends around here yet?” he asked gently.

She was quiet a moment before she answered. “People are warming up, you know. But they’re wary of me, and I get that. I didn’t arrive for the job expecting to make a great group of friends. That’s not how it goes when you come to be everyone’s boss.”

“Must be hard,” Gendry said sympathetically.

He could see Arya shrug as she pulled back on the oars. “I have a very close family and that really does help.”

“The sister with the gowns?”

Arya nodded. “Yes, and four brothers.”

“Blimey! Four!” Gendry could only imagine sharing life with that many other people.

His tone of surprise must have made Arya curious. “What about you?”

“Just me,” he said simply. “As you can probably tell by the Waters, I don’t even have a mum and dad. But I’ve gathered a little family around me over the years. I’m doing ok.”

“One of my brothers is a Snow,” Arya said quietly. “Jon Snow.”

“Yeah?” Gendry asked, confused. “How does that work?”

“He’s sort of my half-brother. It’s complicated.”

“Fair enough. Sorry, didn’t meant to pry.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just not my story to tell. Anyway, Jon’s my favourite brother.”

“Maybe that’s why you and I get on,” Gendry said lightly.

“I’d been wondering that myself. Actually, Jon’s coming to visit in a few weeks. He’s got a couple of weeks of long-service leave from his work.”

“And he’s going to spend it all here with you? That’s a good brother!”

“I told you he was my favourite.” He could hear the smile in her voice. 

“What does he do?”

“He works in the far North, beyond the wall. It’s a pretty isolated job. He’s looking forward to some warmer weather for a change.”

“Will you bring him down here to come rowing with us in the mornings?”

“Would you mind?” 

Gendry grinned. “Not at all. I’ll put you two in the double scull and I can go back to my single for a while.”

“So you’ll just desert me and leave us two amatuers together?” Arya asked.

“Alright,” he laughed. “I can see if any of the other coaches like the idea of training a newbie.”

“Can’t guarantee I’ll be able to get him up this early.”

“Well, that might save me from having to ask any of them!”

“Another thing on the calendar I noticed - Riverlands is hosting the regatta next weekend? What does that entail?”

“All hands on deck!” Gendry replied. “Yours too if you can spare them.”

“Well, I don’t suppose it’s been put on my calendar just for my information. What do you want me to do?”

“No fancy gown required, you’ll be pleased to hear,” he said. “We’ll be loading boats in and out, directing visiting schools, manning a barbeque, time-keeping, marshalling, place-judging, all the usual.”

“And you make it all happen?” She seemed impressed.

“You’ll be sick of the sound of me by the end of the day. I’ll be on the PA trying against all the odds to get the events to run in the right order.”

“Sounds like an ordeal,” she said.

“Comes with the territory. And it’s got it’s own perks. My coaches are all so relieved that they don’t have to do it that they bring me food all day and buy me a lot of drinks after it’s all over.”

“So I come in something like what I’m wearing now?”

Gendry couldn’t help letting his eyes coast over her bare shoulders. It was one thing to have them in view when he didn’t have anything else he needed to think about… “Maybe something with sleeves? You’re out in the sun all day. Basically, dress in something you’re happy to end up getting filthy and soaking wet. Our kids get all excited about the home regatta. Afterwards a little bit of mayhem breaks out that they like to call Riverrun. It’s all in good fun so the coaches and the parents let them run a bit wild for the afternoon.”

“Bathers under my clothes then?”

He didn’t want to think about Arya Stark in her bathers.

“Whatever works, I guess,” he replied airily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those super lovely people letting me know they're liking this!


	4. Chapter 4

Jon Snow arrived the following week and four days into his visit Arya actually took a lunch break for once in order to show him around.

Gendry had all the sculls out on the boat ramp in the sunshine while he busily cleaned and greased the oarlocks in preparation for the next weekend’s regatta.

When he saw the familiar yellow sports car approaching he quickly scrabbled around for the t-shirt he’d discarded. No matter how much he looked and felt for it and blustered and cursed, it took him until the very moment she’d pulled in and parked to locate it under one of the shells. He quickly yanked it over his head and hoped they’d been too busy talking to notice anything.

Gendry’s first impression of Jon Snow was that he had a mischievous look about him as he muttered something to his sister over the roof of her car. Arya’s face turned beet-red in reaction to the words Gendry couldn’t hear and as soon as they were walking side-by-side down the river bank he saw her thwack Jon soundly with the back of her hand. Her brother laughed and ducked away from her. It looked nice, having a sibling. 

Half-brother or not, Jon Snow and Arya certainly looked related. Both of them were dark in colouring but where Arya’s hair hung loosely about her shoulders in soft curls, Jon’s thick hair was wild and he sported a healthy beard. Where Arya’s suit was crisp and her makeup perfect, Jon looked not unlike he’d just finished a week-long hike in the wilderness.

“Gendry Waters,” Arya said as she approached. “This is my brother, Jon Snow.”

Jon grinned as he stuck out his hand. “Easily the friendliest face yet,” he observed to his sister and she nodded in wry agreement. “Nice to meet you, Gendry. Thanks for being the one person in this whole place my sister actually enjoys spending time with.”

Gendry laughed, quietly chuffed to hear such an assessment from Arya’s brother. “That’s easy. I don’t ever need her to sign anything for me or write me any reports or tell off any of my badly behaved students.”

“He is making me write a speech though, and get all dressed up for this thing next weekend.”

Jon turned to Gendry. “How dare you. You’re making her do her actual job? And wear a dress? Simultaneously?”

Arya aimed a vague punch in her brother’s direction. “That’s another reason why I prefer it down here. No corporate attire required.”

Jon looked sideways at his sister. “No shirt required if we go by the way Gendry was dressed when we pulled up. Now that’s the kind of dress code everyone can get behind.”

Gendry felt his face flush and made a note to himself not to do that again. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Wasn’t expecting any company this time of the day.” He quickly turned away to fiddle with one of the oarlocks. “Probably not something you can try where you work, though, eh Jon?”

Jon laughed. “Not unless you planned to go through the rest of your life with frostbite scars where your nipples used to be.” He looked out across the river. “So this is where you start every day now, Arya?”

She nodded proudly. “Gendry and I row for almost an hour every morning.”

“And you’re getting all buff to prove it.” He turned to Gendry. “I hear you’re going to try and teach me to stay afloat,” Jon laughed. “That should be entertaining for all of us.”

Gendry looked up to see Ygritte approaching.

“Actually,” she called, “I think that’s going to be my job.”

Arya and Jon turned to watch her walking towards them.

“Really?” asked Gendry, surprised. “I thought you said you were too busy to pick up another session.”

She shrugged, tossing her long red hair behind her shoulder and smiling at Jon. “Schedule changed.” She held out her hand. “I’m Ygritte.”

“You’re from the north,” said Jon, hearing her accent.

“Born and bred,” she agreed.

Jon’s grin was rakish. “Does that mean you’ll go easy on me?”

Ygritte raised her eyebrows. “Which North did you come from? Almost certainly not.”

Gendry looked awkwardly at Arya. He’d only just met Jon and he’d never seen Ygritte like this before.

“Mr Waters,” Arya said over the top of the raging flirtation. “I just need to ask you something about the dinner. Do you mind if we-” She indicated a spot nearer the boatshed.

“Certainly, Dr Stark,” he agreed, turning and wandering in the direction she’d pointed to.

When they were out of earshot of the other two, they burst into quiet giggles.

“Is your brother always like that?” Gendry asked.

“I hope not!” Arya replied, scandalised. 

“I feel a bit responsible,” said Gendry, “But honestly, all the other coaches had said they weren’t interested, including Ygritte.”

“Until she got a look at him just now maybe?”

Gendry glanced over his shoulder to where Jon and Ygritte still stood firing flirty barbs at one another and clearly loving every second of it. 

“Is he what’s traditionally regarded as attractive when it comes to men?” Gendry asked.

“Don’t ask me,” Arya replied, laughing. “I’m his sister. But Jon’s definitely had his fair share of women after him.”

Gendry absent-mindedly ran his hand through his own neat short-back-and-sides hair. “Not sure I could pull off that look even if I tried. I think my hair would just flop straight into my eyes. No good for rowing.”

“All sorts of women are interested in all sorts of things, Gendry,” Arya said authoritatively. “If it’s Ygritte you’re after-”

Gendry scoffed.

“-you might find you’re not her type. But I’m sure you’re someone else’s type.”

Gendry laughed. “Thanks for that little pep talk, Dr Stark.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “No trouble at all, Mr Waters. Now if it’s alright with you, I better get my brother out of here before they create a scene.”

“I guess we’ll be seeing plenty more of this in the morning,” he sighed.

“What if we just do what we always do and leave them to it?” Arya suggested. 

Gendry looked at her quizzically. 

“Surely Ygritte’s more than capable of getting him out on the water on her own,” she went on. “No reason why the two of them should disturb our peaceful start to the day.”

He grinned widely at her. “I like the way you think, Boss,” he said.

Arya shook her head. “Don’t call me boss.”

“I’ll add it to the list.”

As planned, the following morning Arya deposited a yawning Jon on the boat ramp with Ygritte and, with a little wave at her brother, blithely stepped into the scull Gendry was holding ready for her.

“You’re late,” he observed as they pulled away. “That’s a first.”

“Sorry, Gendry. My morning was not my own,” she said wryly. “If not even the promise of Ygritte can get him out of bed, who incidentally he did not shut up about all evening, I’m not sure I’ll be trying to wake him this early again.”

Gendry laughed, looking back at the boat ramp where Ygritte was helping Jon into a scull. “We’ll see how it’s going by the end of the hour, I suppose.”

“And here was I thinking Jon would be around for moral support at this bloody dinner,” she sighed. “Now he’ll just be trailing around after Ygritte. You did say she scrubs up well for these events.”

“Pretty silk dress and everything,” Gendry agreed. “Yeah, he’ll be useless.”

“It’s not that I begrudge Jon a bit of romance,” Arya explained. “His work is pretty isolated. He’s been alone a long time. It’s just that, well… I was hoping...” 

“Is there anything I could do to help you out at the dinner?” Gendry offered tentatively.

“Are you volunteering to be my moral support?” Arya asked, her tone soft. “That’s kind of you, Gendry, but you’ll have plenty of your own things to worry about.”

“Not really,” he replied. “Remember, I’ve seen how it all plays out quite a few times now. I’ve already written my speech and that’s all I really have to worry about on the actual evening. The coaches and I will have worked out who’s receiving what, the school’s admin staff make all the certificates and arrange all the trophies and everything. Missandei manages the actual award presentations, you and I just have to shake hands with everyone as she hands them their prizes.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“It is! It’s actually a lovely evening and the food is always spectacular. If it’s introductions you’re worried about, I’m happy to help with that. I’ve worked with all these kids and their families for years now.”

“I suppose I just don’t want to stand around awkwardly not knowing what to do with myself.”

“I don’t believe for a second that you ever stand around awkwardly anywhere. You take command of any room the minute you walk into it,” Gendry replied.

“I do?” she asked.

“Of course you do. You know that.”

“Right,” she said decisively. “Well, then, I’ll just stick with you and Jon can do whatever he likes.”

“Exactly. Except perhaps warn him about letting Ygritte pull him onto the dancefloor.”

“Why’s that?” Arya asked.

“I saw it with one of the single dads after a few too many drinks one year. She can be a bit-”

“-Exuberant?”

“I was going to go with ‘handsy’.”

“Oh,” said Arya primly. “Probably not a good look for the new principal’s brother at a school function.”

“Erm, yeah. Probably not.”

“You’re full of good tips, aren’t you Gendry? That one about the waiting list has come in handy more than once in the last few weeks.”

He laughed. “Glad I can be of use. Hey, do you and Jon want to come out with us for Saturday afternoon drinks after our races this weekend instead?” he asked tentatively. “Maybe then they can get it out of their system and no one from school will be there to see.”

Arya shook her head. “Surely your team doesn’t want the school principal present when they’re trying to wind down.” 

“I do,” he said simply. “And the rest of them think of you more as the famous fencer than as the school principal. We sit a bit loose to the school in that way.”

“Thanks for inviting us, Gendry,” said Arya warmly. “I’ll see what Jon thinks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That some of you are into this is just the best. Thank you!!!
> 
> Also, if you haven't already, do yourself a favour and duck over to the now completed, super amazing, Gendrya ride of a lifetime:  
> re: weapons (and you) by scrubclub  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/19087804/chapters/45348238


	5. Chapter 5

Unsurprisingly, Jon was eager to take Gendry up on his offer, and seeing how entirely relaxed his team was as they greeted Arya, Gendry began to be worried that maybe she’d think they sat a bit _too_ loose to the school.

“Sabre lady!” bellowed Tormund, already three sheets to the wind. “When do I get to fight you?”

Jon laughed. “How much do you value your life?”

Tormund shrugged. “Not all that much to be honest. I feel like it would at least be an interesting way to go out.”

Arya looked over at Gendry who was just coming back from the bar with a pint for himself and Grey Worm having been the last two to arrive. 

“Should I be worried that this rowing coach of ours has a death wish?”

“Anyone else I’d say yes,” Gendry replied, chuckling. “But not Tormund. His daily dance with death is what keeps him alive.”

“Though not necessarily out of hospital,” joked Ygritte, sidling up to join them.

“How did everything go today?” Arya asked Gendry, angling her body away from Jon so as not to have to watch him flirting.

Gendry grinned. “Fantastic! Shireen won everything, our doubles did well, our quads were finally showing what they can do. It’s really been an amazing season.”

“Shireen’s father told me that he’s utterly unsurprised Riverlands rowing is doing so brilliantly. This is your sixth year at the school and so we’re reaping the benefit of having had you working with every rower on the water. He firmly believes Shireen will prove to be the first of many of your generation of rowers that go on from Riverlands to do amazing things.”

Gendry rubbed at the back of his neck. “He said that?”

“Yep, and not just to me. He said it to the whole school board, to enthusiastic applause.”

“Wow,” Gendry breathed.

“I suggested the school should surely give you a pay rise - prevent you from being pilfered by our competitors.”

Gendry grinned. “Really? It’s not necessary, you understand. I’m a loyal old dog.”

Arya looked back at him wide-eyed. “Should I call the board then? Say I changed my mind about the pay rise given that you’ve assured me we’re in no danger of losing you?”

“Now, now,” he said, laughing. “No need to be hasty.”

“We’re running a very lucrative educational institution, Gendry, and we have to properly remunerate our fantastic staff. I’m learning that a good deal of our enrolment is thanks to your excellent reputation. Given that you play such a big part in bringing revenue to the school, it stands to reason that some of it must flow back to you. If you’re worried about it being awkward with your team, don’t be. I suggested they should all similarly benefit.”

“Want to tell them that now?” Gendry offered. “Properly entrench yourself as everyone’s favourite person?”

“We haven’t quite hammered out the figures yet,” Arya replied, “but when we do I want you to make the announcement. If anyone deserves to be further entrenched as the favourite, it’s you.”

Gendry didn’t know entirely how to react. He did know that finding himself in this woman’s good graces was more than reward enough.

“Then at least let me buy you and Jon a drink,” he said, suddenly noticing she wasn’t holding anything.

“I think Jon’s been taken care of,” she observed wryly, nodding in the direction of where he and Ygritte were throwing back shots at the bar.

“Yikes,” said Gendry, laughing.

“As long as this is them getting it out of their system and not a warm up for the dinner, we should be fine,” said Arya, grinning.

“I guess we’ve got no guarantees.”

“No,” she replied. “But I’ve told him that if he does anything to damage my professional reputation while he’s here in the Riverlands I’ll cut off his balls.”

Gendry resisted the impulse to cover the soft parts of himself with his hands. “And you’ve got the tools to do it in your possession already.”

“A whole array of them,” Arya agreed. “I sharpened one pointedly over breakfast this morning.”

“Pretty sure your reputation is safe from Jon then,” said Gendry. “But you’ve still got to get through the Regatta. The kids know you and I train together. Shireen says she wants to race us.” 

Arya sighed. “Can’t we claim your shoulder injury as our excuse?”

Gendry rolled it experimentally back and forth. “Training with you every day has done me wonders. I think we can take her.”

Arya fixed him with an incredulous look. “Shireen Baratheon has just been selected for the Pan Westeros Games, Gendry. This year, not a decade ago.”

“One kid against two adults? My pride’s up to a humiliating defeat if I’m wrong,” said Gendry. “Is yours?”

Arya grinned, understanding. “She’d be pretty chuffed if she single-handedly beat both of us.”

Gendry nodded. “Might be just the confidence boost she needs.”

“But we’ll talk ourselves up until the very moment of her victory.”

“Exactly.”

  


The morning of the Riverlands Grammar School Regatta, Gendry had been pottering about on the boat ramp getting things ready long before Arya’s yellow car swung into its accustomed spot on the river bank. He wandered out to meet her as she carefully picked her way down the bank in the dark and found himself face-to-face with a rather large house plant.

“Happy Regatta Day!” he heard her call from behind the luxuriant foliage.

“This is for me?” he asked, trying to work out how to take it from her.

“Yep,” she said cheerily, foisting it into his arms. “I refuse to be the only one killing things off on this campus.”

“Phew,” he replied. “I appreciate that you expect it to die. That really takes the pressure off.”

“Think of it as me sharing my guilt around.” 

He managed to deposit it safely on the boat ramp and went to give her a kiss and a hug in thanks.

It wasn’t until his lips met the soft skin of her cheek and he felt her arms wrap around him in return that he thought maybe his instinct wasn’t entirely appropriate in this context.

“Thanks, Arya,” he said, a little too loudly, as he pulled away. “That was really thoughtful of you.”

It was hard to tell in the near dark but she looked flushed as she nodded awkwardly at him.

“Big day, hey?” she offered. “Do you even have time to row with me this morning?”

Gendry grinned, heading into the boat shed to pull out their scull. “If we don’t row now, nothing else of use is going to happen today.”

“That’s how I feel every morning,” Arya agreed, fetching their oars. “The day I don’t show up to splash about with you down here in the morning is the day the school falls apart.”

“Sheesh, you really love laying the success of the school squarely on the shoulders of the rowing program, don’t you!” he laughed as they settled into the scull and pushed off.

“Credit where credit’s due, Gendry,” she replied. “Now, let’s see if we can perfect our PB. I know that the plan is to be beaten this afternoon but I’d prefer to keep some of our pride intact, wouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Gendry loved her competitive streak, mainly because it resonated so strongly with his own. “No Jon this morning?” he asked. “Did me sending Ygritte on early morning regatta-related errands give him a chance to sleep in?”

He watched Arya shake her head. “Guess who’s out helping her run those errands?” 

“Wow,” Gendry said. “They’re really into each other aren’t they?”

“So it would seem,” she agreed. “In fact, I heard them eagerly discussing spending some time together in the North when next she goes home to see her dad and them wondering whether or not the old man would like Jon.”

“Hope I won’t have to be looking for a new coach any time soon,” said Gendry. “If I do, let me warn you, Dr Stark, I’ll be holding you entirely responsible.”

“Can we help it if our gene pool is entirely exemplary, Mr Waters? Jon and I are but hapless victims of fate to have come into this world so brilliantly gifted and attractive.”

Gendry could only laugh at that, wondering if it was more than just the act of rowing that had him starting each and every day in such a cheerful frame of mind.

Once thoroughly warmed up, they started their time trials, improving on their PB at each attempt.

“Now remember, we really don’t want to beat Shireen,” Gendry reminded Arya as she demanded they go again.

“I know, I know,” Arya agreed grumpily. “But a nice close second place keeps everyone happy, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I suppose that’s how you come to be running this place.”

“How’s your shoulder holding up?” she asked.

He drew his attention to what used to be the source of so much discomfort. “Yeah, it’s fine thanks, Arya.”

“Then man up, Gendry, and let’s run this one more time.”

As the various competing schools began to arrive some hours later, from where he was perched above the finish line with the PA system, Gendry could see Arya meeting and warmly welcoming the school principals and rowing directors. He appreciated the way she made the effort to seek out the actual students who’d come to row and took Shireen about with her to greet their competitors. 

He saw Davos and Marya arrive and be embraced by Shireen and her father and led down to the seats of honour that had been set aside for them under a large canopy right on the water. Arya sat beside them for a while and their conversation looked animated and amicable. He couldn’t wait to catch up with Davos later.

After that initial mingling period, once the action began, Gendry barely got to look up again until the races were almost all over. 

At that point, he was surprised to find Arya climbing up his laddered chair and squeezing on to the little platform beside him, seizing the microphone out of his hand.

“On behalf of Riverlands Grammar,” she said warmly, her voice broadcast all over the riverbank, “I’d like to thank all of our competing schools for joining us on the river today. It has been such a joy for our students to participate in a competition so marked by focused determination, humble perseverance and excellent sportsmanship. Congratulations to all of you.”

The crowd on the bank broke out in uproarious applause and cheering.

“And could we please thank this man, Mr Gendry Waters, Riverlands’ Director of Rowing, for all of the hard work he has put into today and the entire season. Riverlands is immensely proud to have such an accomplished rowing staff, ably led by Mr Waters, and it is thanks to them and their tireless efforts that every single one of our Riverlands rowers have achieved new personal bests today, whether or not they placed in their events.”

More enthusiastic cheering and clapping.

Gendry listened to her and to the crowd’s reaction feeling proud to bursting. How she’d realised what he’d been silently celebrating all day - that every single one of his rowers had gained new PBs - he had no idea. She’d have to have been paying extremely close attention to their data throughout the day to have worked that out.

“Please relax and join us for lunch but, Riverlands students, let me warn you not to overdo it! We still have Riverrun this afternoon.”

Another raucous cheer broke out among the students and Arya switched off the mic, turning to grin at him.

Gendry shielded his eyes against the sun as he tilted his head back to smile up at her. “Had a good day so far?” he asked.

She grinned back at him. “Best day at Riverlands yet.”

Exhausted though he was, hearing Arya name what was ostensibly his day as her best at Riverlands since she arrived somehow renewed his flagging energy.

“And we haven’t even raced together yet,” he said.

She winked at him. “Can’t wait!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to update this one because I heard readers were coming here for relief after the angst of my #valeofarrynbackpackershostel fic (which I promise will lighten up soon!) Hope this was light and fluffy enough for you!!!
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH to the readers and commenters. You make my day and fuel this writing frenzy!


	6. Chapter 6

Gendry finally tied up all the loose ends from the rush of the morning, farewelled various people he knew from the departing competitor schools and made it over to where Davos and Marya were sitting. He was warmly embraced by both of them.

“What a triumph, lad!” Davos crowed. “Best Regatta I’ve ever attended! And that Dr Stark! She’s a firecracker isn’t she?”

Gendry agreed heartily, hoping that neither of his venerable friends noticed the flush he felt growing across his face as he gushed about her.

“She’s amazing, Davos,” he said warmly. 

“That’s what she said about you,” the older man replied, laughing. 

“And we heard all about your early morning training sessions,” Marya added. “She says she doesn’t think she could start the day right without you.”

Gendry gave all attempts at hiding his blush up for lost.

Davos and Marya shot one another a knowing glance he couldn’t miss.

“We love a bit of romance, don’t we, dear,” Marya cooed.

“Now, you two,” Gendry said warningly, “Don’t you go getting ahead of yourselves. There’s absolutely no romance going on between myself and Dr Stark.”

Davos held up his hands in surrender. “If you say so, lad,” he laughed. “But you weren’t here earlier to hear her talking about you.”

Gendry was torn between completely quashing the ridiculous notion and begging them to tell him everything single thing Arya had said complete with all the potential non-verbal implications. He decided he’d better stick with the former.

“We’re friends, alright?” he insisted. “She’s great. But she doesn’t want some rowing coach following her around campus.”

“That’s not the impression I got,” Marya said to Davos. “Seemed to me she’d quite like to have you following her around the school all day.”

“She did say you’re the one person in the school with whom she feels genuinely comfortable,” Davos added. “I agreed! Told her about all those evenings I dropped by to drink scotch with you so I could return home to Marya in tolerable spirits. She wondered out loud if she could talk you into an afternoon session on the river as well so she could debrief at the end of the school day.”

Gendry loved that even though he’d gone with denial, he was getting the full story anyway. He decided just to roll his eyes in the hopes they’d keep talking.

“And she said she was looking forward to seeing you in that old suit we bought you at the rowing dinner,” Marya added, her tone mischievous. “I’ve never heard someone so enthusiastic about a fellow staff member offering to help out with introductions, have you, love?”

“Maybe we should take him out and get him a new suit,” Davos mused to his wife. “That old one’s been alright, but now that we know Arya’s expressed a particular interest in seeing him in it…”

“You’re absolutely right, dear,” Marya agreed, nodding. “We want him to look his best if he’s going to be in with a chance with her.”

At this point, it became too much even for Gendry.

“Would you two stop it?” he hissed. “I’m _never_ going to be in with a chance with her, alright? She’s the principal of the school. She’s my boss. She’s a champion. She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I just teach kids how to row boats.”

“Don’t you dare sell yourself short, lad,” said Davos sternly. “You’re successfully raising up international talent. You’re bringing students to the school we love in droves. You’re inspiring a generation of young people in the Riverlands and you’re a bloody good man.”

Gendry grinned at his mentor. “Thanks, Davos,” he said quietly.

“So we’re agreed on the new suit?” Marya chirped. “Lovely, that’s settled then. And I have a fabulous idea about how to get it all done nice and efficiently.”

Gendry shrugged, still smiling at his old friends. “I don’t suppose there’s any use arguing with you.”

“Correct,” replied Marya.

Shireen suddenly appeared beside them. “Mr and Mrs Seaworth, I’m so sorry to interrupt but we need Mr Waters. The Riverrun races are starting!”

With Tormund on Gendry’s microphone from earlier, the tone of the rest of the day was vastly more relaxed and considerably sillier. Novelty raft races had students and parents trying to ferry one another from one bank to the other with planks lashed to empty milk bottles. There were relays where the competitors had to don an outrageously loud shirt and board shorts over their unisuits, dive onto an enormous inflatable novelty flip flop and paddle it to where the rest of their team was waiting, struggle out of the wet clothes and pass them on to the next team member who began the whole process again. There were water gun fights breaking out all over and water balloon sling-shots firing missiles into the air at random. 

At last it was time for the grand finale - the more seriously regarded Staff vs Students race.

The sculls - a variety of singles and doubles depending on the handicap allocated by the coaches - lined up along the start waiting for Tormund to sound the starting gun.

Arya reached back, holding her open hand over her shoulder. “Ready, partner?” she asked.

Gendry slapped her palm with his. “Second place here we come!” he replied determinedly.

He looked to his left to see that Davos and Marya had left their shaded seats under the canopy and were standing on the bank yelling excitedly with the rest of the school.

He shook his head, remembering their unlikely conversation from earlier, but he couldn’t help casting a fond glance over Arya’s back and shoulders, hunched competitively over the oars in front of him ready to pounce at the signal.

The gun sounded and the pair of them shot into action, immediately finding their well-practiced rhythm as if they were in perfect synch.

They were fast but Shireen was definitely faster. With her just out of his line of sight ahead of them, Gendry could see the rest of the field behind them and laughed to see his coaches and his rowers all thrashing it out in the water together. 

“Grey Worm’s gaining on us,” he urged and immediately felt Arya increase her output, quickly balancing his effort with hers to pull them slightly further ahead. 

He had to stop himself from laughing at a giggling Jon and Ygritte, half-capsized just beyond the starting line. They didn’t look too distressed about it.

The push to get out of Grey Worm’s reach drew them level with Shireen but not by enough to beat her. They glided past the finish line precisely where they’d planned, whooping and cheering praise to Shireen and to one another. 

Before their celebration could get too raucous, a crowd of students, led by a mischievous-looking Shireen, tipped themselves out of their sculls and made their way to one side of Gendry and Arya’s scull, something in their approach distinctly predatory.

“Three cheers for Mr Waters!” Shireen cried.

“Hip Hip Hooray! Hip Hip Hooray! Hip Hip Hooray!” the students echoed their captain.

“Three cheers for Dr Stark!” she yelled.

“Hip Hip Hooray! Hip Hip Hooray! Hip Hip Hooray!”

“And now let’s show them just how much we appreciate them racing against us today!” she cried and the kids applied all their combined effort into capsizing their double scull.

Gendry found himself tangled with Arya in the water and had to gently grab her hands so as not to hurt her as they kicked their way to the surface. They emerged laughing and spluttering and aiming jesting threats and punishments at Shireen and the other rowers who trod water around them, clearly delighted by their triumph.

“Alright, you lot,” Gendry ordered good-naturedly. “Get those sculls back to the boat ramp quick smart. There’ll be hell to pay if we’re missing any oars!”

Shireen had already called a couple of students to help pull in Gendry and Arya’s scull so they were left to swim back to the bank at their own pace behind the rest of the competitors.

“Gods!” Arya suddenly cried in a panic, patting herself down as if she’d lost something.

“You alright?” Gendry asked, concerned. “Got your car keys and everything?”

She obviously found what she’d been looking for judging by the relieved look on her face. She held up a wad of dripping hundred dragon notes.

Gendry shook his head. How the other half lived.

“That’s a lot of cash to have in your pocket during a boat race.”

She grinned at him, resuming her breaststroke with the wad of notes tucked safely in her hand. “Marya and Davos forced it on me just now. Told me I’ll need to take you out shopping. They said they’d been thinking and they’d decided that old suit of yours needs replacing before the dinner tomorrow night.”

Gendry shook his head at their combined level of conniving.

“I can’t ask you to do that!” he exclaimed, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. “Don’t you have a school to run?”

Arya shrugged, tipping over onto her back to face him. “Even the principal needs to take a break now and then. Actually, I think it sounds like fun.”

“Those two,” he muttered. “I can afford my own suit, you know.”

“I know, Gendry,” she agreed. “But they obviously love you like a son. They looked so delighted by their little scheme to treat you.”

“I bet they did.”

“So you’ll let me take you shopping?” she asked brightly.

“Only if you’re sure you want to,” Gendry answered carefully, wanting to make sure he said nothing that might suggest he didn’t love the idea of spending the day with her.

“Tomorrow morning then? Straight after our session?” Arya suggested.

“Are any shops even open that early?” he asked.

“Well, no,” she said. “But maybe we could have breakfast at a cafe first?”

“Sounds good to me!” he replied cheerily, staggering on to the bank and reaching out a hand to help her out of the weeds.

Gendry smiled to himself as he pulled his dripping wet t-shirt over his head. He’d have to make sure he found Davos and Marya immediately to give them a big wet hug.

He was all set to find them until he was distracted by the sight of Arya similarly yanking off her wet t-shirt and kicking off her water-logged shorts leaving her only in her sporty red bathing suit.

It took his brain a few moments of internal yelling before he managed to rip his gaze away from her.

“Right,” he muttered to himself, casting about for his lost sense of purpose. “Right, then.” 

Davos and Marya appeared to congratulate him reminding him of his plan.

“Come here you two,” he cried, holding out his dripping wet arms to embrace them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey dudes, thanks to those who've gotten into this. I'm super sorry to do this to you but I sort of feel like I'm not really hitting the mark writing for this fandom so I'm leaving this one here. I've had some fun but I think a time comes when you realise you're not really up to the task you've set yourself and that it might be better to conserve your energy for other things!  
> EDIT: Ummm, not sure what to tell you? Despite all this, I did keep writing! There is lots more to come!


	7. Chapter 7

The one person who got up earlier than he did was the newspaper delivery guy, Gendry reflected, finding Sunday’s copy neatly folded on the doormat. He secretly suspected that Hodor, Riverlands Grammar’s faithful night security guard, couldn’t actually read, but that didn’t stop him diligently turning through every page of every issue of the Riverlands Gazette on the lookout for mentions of the school. Hodor only hand-delivered it to staff at the school if any articles included photos of anyone he recognised from the Grammar community. Despite his size, he had proven surprisingly light of foot as he delivered it regularly to the boathouse without ever once waking Gendry.

The Riverlands Gazette carried all sorts of stories from bus crashes to gallery openings and everything in between. If there was a local community initiative they’d spruik it, if there was a local community grievance, they’d air it and if there was a local community scandal, they’d break it. Some days it was the best read in town, some days it was dull as dishwater but Riverlands Grammar School usually got some very good press and they always loved to cover Riverrun.

This year the angle was Shireen Baratheon’s Pan-Westerosi Games selection with the heading CHAMP COACH DELIVERS NEW GENERATION OF GAMES HOPEFULS. The article remembered Gendy’s own career and then celebrated his role in what turned out to be the youngest Games selection for many decades. That Riverlands Rowing has produced a rower mature enough and ready for the Games just as she left school was supposed to be a testament to his talent rather than to Shireen’s dedication which irked him a little. He couldn’t help but fondly roll his eyes at the old photos of him they’d included from the height of his success, trying to imagine the face Arya would pull when she found her copy neatly folded at her front door. He grinned at the cover photo - a huge shot, taking up most of the front page, of Shireen celebrating with each of her hands being held up in victory by Arya on her right and Gendry on her left. The coverage of Grammar was glowing as usual - fantastic advertising for the school.

He was still thumbing through it when Arya arrived.

“Seen this, boss?” he asked as she approached.

Arya drew near as if to look at the article over his shoulder but it quickly became apparent that that was only so that she could elbow him in the ribs.

“Yes,  _ boss _ ,” she shot back. “I bloody  _ love _ that newspaper.” She pointed to one of the photos of him on the water as a younger man. “Phwoar! Look at those biceps, Waters! You were such a dish back then!”

“What am I now? Chopped liver?” he shot back.

Arya shrugged. “You’ll do.”

“We’re not paying these guys any money are we?” Gendry asked, holding up the paper. 

Arya laughed. “We’re not but the author of that particular article  _ has  _ just put his brand new baby daughter on the waiting list. Now are we going to row, or what?”

The hour on the water went by quicker than ever with the whole day together stretching ahead of them. As they pulled their double skull out of the water and hefted it into the boatshed, Gendry noticed Arya had left a large bag to one side of the shed.

Once their skull and oars were safely stowed, Arya hoisted the bag onto her shoulder and said, “I’m just heading to the girls’ locker room to rinse off and get changed before we go. Back in a sec.”

Gendry knew the state of those locker rooms - it wasn’t reliably pretty.

“No way,” he said firmly. “You do  _ not _ want to go in there. Give me one sec to grab my clothes from upstairs and then I’ll use the locker rooms and you can shower and change in my flat. It’s about four hundred times nicer up there.”

“Do we need to update your team facilities,  _ Mr Waters _ ?” Arya replied.

“Not just this morning,  _ Dr Stark _ ,” he sighed. His eyes narrowed. “Promise me you won’t sneak into those locker rooms while I’m upstairs getting my stuff?”

“I promise you that I will,” she said defiantly, “but I’ll leave my bag here as an act of good faith. This will purely be a reconnaissance mission.”

Gendry shrugged knowing there was no use fighting with her and conserved the time to jog up the stairs and into his flat, making sure it was presentable as he quickly snatched up his jeans, clean boxers and a blue shirt.

When he made his way back down the stairs, he found Arya with her back to him scribbling a list on a scrap of paper.

“Big plans then?” said Gendry.

“Could you face a renovation taking place over the summer break?” she mused, tapping her pen against her bottom lip. “I’ll make sure the contractors understand the work has to be done extremely efficiently.”

“Arya, I’m pretty keen for this second breakfast you promised me,” he said, laughing. “Could we focus on getting showered and dressed extremely efficiently?”

“Right,” she said, grabbing her bag and running up the stairs into his flat two-by-two. “Come up when you’re done,” she called down to him. “I expect to emerge from your bathroom to find you fully dressed and holding out a perfectly brewed cup of tea.”

Gendry shook his head, grinning, as he disappeared into the scummy boys locker room. He peeled off his shorts and singlet and sighed as the hot water hit his back and shoulders. Just above him, he found it odd to reflect, in the bathroom where he showered every day, Arya was simultaneously standing under a steady stream of steaming water. 

He quickly realised that wasn’t going to be a helpful line of thought to pursue so he focused on carrying out a detailed equipment inventory in his head while he soaped himself down, towelled himself off, dressed, ran up the stairs, avoided even so much as looking towards his closed bathroom door or allowing himself to listen to the contented humming sounding from the other side of it, and began making tea.

Something made his heart hurt when the bathroom door opened and Arya wandered out into his flat, rubbing her still-wet hair with a towel and accepting the cup of tea he handed her with a grateful smile. 

He wondered what it would be like to have her emerge from the bathroom because she lived here with him, because they were together, because they were in love.

He internally chided himself. What a stupid notion. That was a set of circumstances that would  _ never _ eventuate. Not when he was, well, who he was and she was who she was.

At last they made their way up the embankment to Arya’s car. 

Gendry gestured to his battered pick-up.

“Sure you don’t want me to drive?” he asked. “I think it’s pretty clear that I have the nicer car.”

Arya rolled her eyes as she clicked her keyring to unlock her own car.

“Maybe we’ll take your nicer car next time, hey?”

Gendry chuckled as he settled into the plush leather passenger seat and surveyed the sea of little blue lights across her dash.

“Remind me I need to pick up a few things for tonight will you?” he said as the engine purred to life. “I always make my famous dip for the after party.”

“After party?” Arya asked as she reversed out onto the meandering school driveway.

“Which my rowing staff insist you attend by the way.”

“Is this an annual event too?”

“Yep,” Gendry replied. “The Yule Ball is our last official event for the season. We farewell our sixth form rowers and close up shop. Everyone has a full fortnight off. We encourage all our rowers to take a total break from the river and pursue other exercise like hiking, playing soccer, taking yoga or HIIT classes. And so once the dinner is over and before all my coaches disappear for a while, I have everyone back to my place for a relaxed after party and none of us have to get up early the next day. Then when the fortnight’s up, we start our pre-season training all over again.”

Arya was quiet for a moment. “So you and I won’t row together? For two whole weeks?”

Gendry loved how bereft she sounded.

“Well, I might ease off on the time trials but I’ll still be rowing,” he quickly assured her. “And you’re always welcome to join me, Arya. I probably will take Monday morning off though.”

“Given that you won’t get to bed until the wee small hours.”

“Exactly.”

“Is that why the whole school has Monday as a holiday? So the rowing families can recover?”

Gendry shrugged. “Not sure how that tradition started, it was in place long before I got here, but I’m not complaining!”

“You won’t be going away anywhere during the break?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Where would I go?”

Arya let out a puff of air.

“I love that you sound so relieved!” he laughed.

“I know you don’t like me resting the success of the school on your shoulders, Gendry, but you do sort of keep me sane around here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I was going to stop but I didn't. This one is getting enormous. There's an actual plot and everything!  
> Let me know if you're liking it and I'll get it up to scratch and actually publish it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in frivolous honour of IWD and all those unsung women: pillars of strength without whom the great men of history might never have gotten anything done!
> 
> .

“You know what I need?” Arya said later over breakfast as she thoughtfully pushed a rasher of bacon around her plate.

“Go on.”

“I need a wife.”

The shock of this announcement hit Gendry with a surprising amount of force. It occurred to him in that moment that he’d obviously let himself get totally carried away. 

He realised that he was very attracted to her, far more attracted to her than he’d ever meant to allow himself to get, and even though nothing could ever have happened between them, the finality of her not even being interested in _men_ struck him as a considerable blow.

“Oh, err, I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I hadn’t realised- I mean… Right. Huh. Yeah. Same? I guess?”

Arya’s laugh was raucous. “ _You_ need a wife?” 

“Well, I guess, it’d be nice, wouldn’t it? Not being alone, you know. Someone to love.” He paused. “Hang on, I thought we were talking about _you_ wanting a wife.”

“I don’t _want_ a wife, not in the sense that I’m romantically oriented that way. I’m saying I _need_ a wife. Look at all the people who’ve made real history in the world - all those big men up the front, making a difference - and tucked away in the shadows is always an unseen woman, fetching and carrying and mending and supporting and holding everything together and making him toast and tea.”

Gendry laughed. “Ohh, so you weren’t actually coming out to me just now?” He found his own relief ridiculous. Of course, it changed absolutely nothing about his chances with her.

“No, Gendry,” Arya said, grinning. “Though it’s nice to know you were so ready to be supportive. I assure you, I am exclusively sexually attracted to men.”

“Right,” he said, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck. “Noted.”

“But my problem still stands. Think of all Marya must have done for Seaworth when he was in charge.”

“I love Davos, you know that. But without Marya, Davos would be a disaster,” Gendry agreed. “She lays out his clothes every morning because he’s colour blind and can never match the right tie, shirt and suit. She planned menus and arranged seating at every school function he ever held. She remembers the names of all the people Davos has to meet so she can prompt him as he greets every new person as well as their spouses and their children. She even used to let him practice his speeches on her over breakfast in the morning.”

“And made his toast and tea?”

“Well, I doubt he could operate a toaster on his own,” Gendry laughed.

“Do you know,” Arya said, “I burn my toast every single morning. It’s a good thing I’m paid so well in this job because I go through two loaves of bread just to get the benefit of one.”

If Gendry hadn’t enjoyed her company, he’d never have made the offer. 

It was just possible that if he hadn’t found her the most scintillating, fascinating, bamboozling, beautiful woman he’d ever known, he might not have made it either.

“Right, look. Here’s an idea. Shoot me down if you hate it,” said Gendry. “I can’t be your wife, obviously, for multiple reasons, but I can help you with the toast and tea stuff.”

Arya blinked at him. “What?”

“You roll out of bed and throw on your rowing clothes anyway,” he said hurriedly. “Why not come a bit earlier and have breakfast with me? I mean, I’m a bit of a creature of habit, it’s always the same-”

“-What do you have?”

“Tea, two poached eggs, cracked pepper, thickly sliced grainy sourdough toast, lots of the good butter-”

“-The really good butter? In the gold wrapper?”

Gendry nodded. “I’m a sucker for that stuff.”

“Me too.”

“I’ll even listen to you practice your speeches if you like? It’s not like I have to hear most of them when you deliver them for real.”

She was silent a moment and Gendry busied himself topping up their teacups.

“You wouldn’t mind being my wife?” she asked quietly. “Waking up to me every morning?”

Gendry quickly pushed down the implications of that particular turn of phrase and the return of that mild pain in his heart that he’d felt when she’d stepped out of his bathroom earlier towelling her damp hair.

“Err, well, don’t, like, announce it in assembly or anything.”

 _Gods_ , he loved her laugh.

“And you’re sure you haven’t got a potential wife anywhere who might object to this arrangement?” she asked.

Now it was Gendry’s turn to laugh. “Me? And where in my schedule would I be finding the opportunity to meet a potential wife?”

“I suppose we’ve sort of got you sequestered away here at Riverlands, haven’t we, Gendry?” She almost sounded apologetic.

Gendry shrugged. “S’okay, I love it. And I don’t think the women of Westeros are really missing out on all that much, do you?”

Arya nodded. “They _are_ , Gendry,” she said emphatically. “They really are. But for now, the women of Westeros will have to soldier on without you.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“The ma’am thing again? Seven Hells, Gendry, one of these days you’re going to end up with my sabre between your shoulder blades.”

Gendry tut-tutted. “Now, now, Dr Stark. Is that any way to talk to your wife?”

  
  


Gendry would never have described clothes shopping as his favourite activity but with Arya by his side, it seemed everything was his favourite. He liked the way her eyes roved appreciatively from his head to his feet each time he stepped out of the change room. 

She didn’t hesitate to reach up and fix his tie, running her hands over his chest to smooth down his lapels nor did she hold back from undoing his jacket buttons to check how it looked open and then doing them up again. He just stood there and cheerfully let her have her way with him. Her good opinion was the only one he was really trying to secure, after all.

When he found the right suit, he knew it in an instant. He emerged from behind the curtain to see Arya’s jaw actually drop.

They simultaneously turned to the amused assistant and said, “We’ll take this one.”

  
  


Their journey through the supermarket was another source of that mild heart pain that Gendry kept experiencing with Arya. He loved just wandering down each aisle with her as he grabbed the various items he needed, especially when she slipped a block of chocolate into his basket and flashed him a cheeky grin. 

He wondered if maybe this was what it would be like to shop with family.

“Better get some more eggs for our breakfast,” he said.

“And get more of the good butter,” she added quickly. “I have no restraint when it comes to that stuff.”

“I’ll consider myself warned,” he laughed.

“Do you decorate for the after party?” she asked, holding up some tacky glitter streamers.

“Not like that,” he replied, shaking his head in disgust.

“How then?” 

Gendry grinned and quickly checked his watch. Plenty of time. 

“You’ll see.”

  
  


When they made it back to the car, Arya surprised him by heading for the passenger door and tossing him her keys.

“You drive, wifey,” she said with a wink. “I’m going to practice my speech for tonight on you.”

Gendry stared at the sleek vehicle in front of him. “Are- are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Let’s go.”

The car purred to life at a single touch and Gendry guided it ever so slowly out of the parking spot feeling the sweat beading on his forehead as he concentrated.

Arya had found the block of chocolate in his shopping bags and her speech notes in her phone and began reading out loud between mouthfuls.

He obviously laughed in all the right places and gave little hoots and whistles of approval where he imagined the applause would come, being sure _never_ to take his eyes from the road or his hands from ten and two, even when she held a square of chocolate to his mouth and popped it in when he realised what she was doing and finally parted his lips to receive it.

The speech seemed to stop abruptly.

“You’re done?” he asked, ready to shower her with compliments.

“Well, no, but I’ll save the last bit for tonight.”

“What’s the last bit?”

“The last bit is where I thank _you_ , Gendry, and make a little announcement on behalf of the Board that I think you’re going to like.”

“Oh.”

“So it’s alright then? The right tone for the occasion?”

Gendry nodded enthusiastically. “It’s perfect. And the whole rowing community within Riverlands already love you, you know. They think of you as one of us after Riverrun. I don’t think you could put a foot wrong.”

“I hope you’re right, Gendry. I live in fear of one of those school sandals you know? Like some horrific story of abuse in a boarding house or a teacher having an affair with a student or some parent having conflict with me and airing their grievances with the media. A principal can sometimes weather those storms after five years or so in the job when they’re fully entrenched in the school community, but in the first year? That sort of stuff sounds the death knell for any school leader.”

“Well, you’ve threatened Jon, so you don’t have that to worry about at least!”

Arya laughed. “That’s right, I’ve headed off that particular scandal for now.”

She looked out the window for a few beats and Gendry realised they’d barely had a moment’s silence between them all day.

“You ok?” he asked gently.

Arya sighed. “Jon’s going to go back to Ygritte’s after the ball tonight.”

“Oh, I see.”

“He’s going to cut his stay with me short so they can go and visit Ygritte’s dad. By the time they’ve travelled all that way north, he’ll probably just keep going and head straight back to work. I won’t see him again for months.”

“You sound pretty disappointed.”

Arya shrugged. “I really am so happy for him. And I really do like Ygritte! But selfishly, I do feel a bit bereft. And I’ll go home after this thing tonight and have no one to debrief with.”

Gendry decided it couldn’t hurt to try to lighten the mood. “Don’t forget you have a wife now,” he offered quietly. “You can always debrief with me.”

He risked a quick glance at her face and saw her smiling to herself as she watched the scenery go by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, that some of you have come back to this is SUCH a delight! And that you're enjoying it! Hurrah! Your comments have brought me so much joy and fed my writing frenzy!!!


	9. Chapter 9

After Arya dropped him off at the boathouse, Gendry spent what remained of the afternoon stringing up the swathes of fairy lights he kept tucked in a corner of the storeroom just for this annual occasion. His memories of past staff parties after the Rowing Dinner were always bathed in the same golden glow and he found himself looking forward to tonight’s after party more than ever.

He carefully put on his new suit, selecting the new shirt and tie combination that Arya seemed to be most enthusiastic about and went out to the balcony to switch on the fairy lights, making sure they looked right in the encroaching twilight. Arya was coming to pick him up any moment and he didn’t want to make her late for her first Annual Rowing Dinner. He patted his breast pocket to check for his speech, gave his flat a last once-over to make sure he was ready for guests and then turned his attention to spacing out the lights until they were just so.

Somehow he mustn’t have heard her car pull up but just as he crouched down to untangle a knot of lights he’d missed, he heard Arya’s heels resounding on the boathouse steps.

“I’ll just be a sec,” he called, wrestling with the knot.

“Take your time,” she replied, as he heard her step onto the balcony.

Straightening them out at last, he stepped back and admired his handiwork before turning to greet Arya.

Whatever he was going to say died on his lips at the sight of her.

Her dress was a simple shape - spaghetti straps, a fitted bodice and a flared skirt - but the fabric was a brilliant scarlet-coloured lace with a flesh-coloured underlay beneath. Her dark hair was gathered in a knot at the back of her head and a couple of gleaming curls framed her face. On her feet she wore gold heels. 

He noticed that she had her hands buried deep in the pockets of her gown and that she looked at him anxiously.

“Is this the right sort of thing for-”

“You look perfect,” Gendry interrupted her. “You’re beautiful, Arya” he added quickly, just in case she thought he was simply informing her that she’d chosen an appropriate outfit and that he approved. He wanted to tell her so much more than that.

Her smile was more than a smile of relief but her shoulders dropped their tension and she looked at ease. 

“Thank you, Gendry,” she replied warmly. “You’re pretty beautiful yourself, you know.”

Gendry scoffed good-naturedly. 

“And your place looks great,” she said, twirling around to admire the lights while simultaneously allowing Gendry to appreciate the way her gown dipped low at the back. “I can’t wait til the bit where we get to come back here and relax once it’s all over!”

“I’m determined that you’re going to have fun at the dinner though,” Gendry argued. “I’m hoping that when we get to that bit you’ll maybe even feel a bit sad that the Yule Ball has to come to an end for another year.”

“We better get there first” she said wryly, gesturing to where her car waited for them on the embankment.

“Lead the way,” Gendry agreed.

As he’d established on the car ride through the school, Gendry was going to stay near enough that Arya could summon him at any time but not so near that he cramped her style as the most important person at the party.

Arya objected to being described that way but Gendry refused to alter his view.

“You’re the most important person in any room you walk into around here, Arya,” he insisted. “Why not accept it?”

“Because tonight isn’t about me. I want to celebrate the rowers and the coaches and the families,” she replied. 

“Well, do that by showering your attention on them,” Gendry said as they pulled into her designated car space. “As the most important person in the room, there’s nothing that will make everyone feel celebrated like getting to bask in your undivided attention for at least a few moments each. I’m there to help if you need names or facts, but I’ve seen you in action, and I don’t think you’ll need me at all.”

Arya seemed to contemplate this as Gendry walked around to help her out of the car. 

She took his proffered hand and looked at him a moment. “Even if I don’t  _ need _ you nearby, Gendry, I’ll still want you.”

Something about the intensity in her gaze left Gendry only able to swallow and nod in response.

He was surprised to find that she hooked her arm affectionately through his as they walked to the function room. 

Tormund didn’t miss it, raising his red eyebrows as high as his hairline when the two of them walked in together.

“Can I get you a drink?” Gendry whispered to her. “I’ll deposit you over with Jon and Ygritte first if you like.”

She nodded. “Just sparkling water though, ok?” she whispered back.

Gendry laughed. “Wise choice,” he muttered.

Ygritte and Jon greeted her warmly and before Gendry knew it, the Yule Ball was in full swing. As he suspected, Arya did not need him for one moment. She moved from family to family, brimming with correct information and thoughtful little observations and accurate and specific praise for each of the rowers themselves. Gendry congratulated himself on how right he was as she showered her undivided attention on student after student, family after family and coach after coach. She managed to make each person feel special and valued and celebrated. It was a gift, and he felt honoured to watch the way she operated as she moved about the room, occasionally glancing at him and grinning to let him know that she had everything under control. 

Though he was constantly within a few feet of her, always in conversations of his own with families and rowers and coaches, it wasn’t until the guests took their allocated seats at their tables for the meal that he was actually able to interact with her again. 

“Having fun?” he asked.

She grinned. “You were right about everything,” she replied. “I don’t want this night to end, mainly because I have so many more people I want to catch.”

“You really didn’t need me, did you?” Gendry laughed. “It’s so clear to me that you are the absolute perfect person to be in your job. I’ve stayed close so I’ve heard snatches of your conversations and you don’t need any prompting at all. You’ve thrown yourself into this school so wholeheartedly and you have so much genuine interest in your students that you knew all you needed to know anyway. And I’ve seen the faces of the kids and their parents after you’ve chatted to them. They look so chuffed.” He shook his head. “You’re brilliant, Arya. I’m in awe of you.”

She grinned down at her plate. “I’ve noticed the same effect after you talk to students and their families. You make them feel so proud of themselves and what they’ve achieved.”

Gendry laughed. “Well, aren’t we a pair of self-esteem fairies.”

Arya snorted into her water. “I’m printing t-shirts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you want a visual for the dress (though she looks waaaay too young here to ever pass as a school principal!!) - isn’t it stunning!?   
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/64/96/45/649645ba09170938bac7bca30a9565a5.jpg
> 
> And maybe this one for the suit? Hello, Sailor!  
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0f/8c/36/0f8c360dd9356dc0c9c8cdefec53d30b.jpg


	10. Chapter 10

Missandei’s organisation of all the awards was exemplary, Gendry and Arya shook everyone’s hands and congratulated them all and the mood in the room was buoyant. Gendry’s speech went off without a hitch and afterwards Tormund surprised him by projecting on the wall all his old rowing photos from the morning’s Gazette article which gave everyone a generous laugh at his expense.

Arya delivered her speech perfectly and Gendry particularly settled in to listen when she got to the bit that he hadn’t yet heard.

“As a new principal in this day and age, one of the first things you want is data,” she began. “I implemented a thorough search through all the school’s records for the last two decades and I learned a fascinating thing that I’ve not yet shared beyond the Riverlands School Board because I wanted this gathering to be the first to hear of it.”

Gendry felt the atmosphere in the room change as everyone fully tuned in to Arya’s words, curious as to what they might be about to hear.

“Within our school data I was able to map one amazing change that has occured over the last six years. You always pay attention when you see a shift in the way things happen within an institution, and in my analysis, it has become very apparent that one decision in the life of this school made a seismic difference and signalled an enormous departure from the way things had been in the past.

Six years ago, Riverlands Grammar began seeing steady incremental improvements within one sector of the school - our rowing community.”

The crowd in the function room responded with huge applause and Gendry felt the eyes of many of his coaches and rowers flicking over to him. He kept listening intently as Arya held up her hands to still the applause so she could continue. That same focused silence fell.

“The students enrolled in our rowing program that year saw new academic success, new confidence to branch out and try a larger range of extra-curricular activity, and increased success across a wide range of sports. These improvements increased year after year, but for our rowers only.

In an analysis of our reporting data, our rowing students were the ones being described as gaining increased self-discipline, increased determination, increased perseverance. Our rowers were the ones being increasingly congratulated for school spirit, for excellent citizenship, for a strong sense of ownership and purpose. One amazing thing we noticed in the data was that if a student enrolled in the rowing program with a less than exemplary academic or behavioural track record, within one year of rowing, the student would inevitably turn that track record right around.

There is such a stark difference between the process and the outcomes for our rowers and our non-rowers, regardless of when in their school journey a student takes up rowing, and that difference began six years ago when my predecessor, Mr Davos Seaworth, made the visionary decision to hire multiple Pan-Westeros Games Gold Medal Winner and,” she flashed Gendry a grin, “My own personal rowing coach, Mr Gendry Waters, as Riverlands Grammar Director of Rowing.”

At this, the crowd stood to their feet led by the students and coaches who beamed at Gendry as they heartily applauded. 

He sat in his seat, shaking his head as the clapping and cheering thundered around him. 

Arya beamed at him more beatifically than anyone.

It seemed like an eternity before people began to resume their seats and turn their attention back to the principal.

“We want Riverlands Grammar School Rowing to continue to benefit from Mr Waters’ leadership for many years to come and we additionally want Riverlands to be the employer of choice for gifted rowing coaches. As a result, the School Board has unanimously decided that because Mr Waters has made such an enormously positive difference to our school, he will be promoted from Director of Rowing to Head of the Rowing Faculty. This earns him a place on the School Executive Committee and elevates him to the status and remuneration of an academic faculty head.” 

More exuberant applause. 

“Additionally, each of the experienced coaches that Mr Waters has carefully selected and trained and whom he thoughtfully supports and oversees, will be promoted to the status and remuneration of Expert Teachers within our school community due to the role that each of them plays in adding value to each and every one of our rowing students.”

Gendry began to wonder if the crowd would ever stop celebrating. He couldn’t even imagine how big the pay rise would be for him and his coaches. With that much extra resourcing, he began to feel that the hope of repeating Shireen Baratheon’s Games Selection was possibly within reach.

“What did you think of that announcement?” Arya asked as she finally found her way back through the celebrating crowd to drop back into her chair beside him.

Gendry shook his head. “Arya, I don’t even know what to say except thank you.”

“No,” she said earnestly. “Don’t you understand? It’s the school that needs to thank  _ you _ . The transformation you have made is almost unheard of in school circles. You’ve done what everyone thinks is impossible to do. You’ve changed a culture.”

He shrugged. “If you say so, Dr Stark.” 

“I don’t, Mr Waters,” Arya corrected him with a smile. “The data never lies.”

Gendry had seen the Yule Ball crowd hit the dance floor after speeches before but never with the enthusiasm that they flooded it after Arya’s announcement. Normally he would spend this time shuffling through the crowd shaking hands and slapping backs but tonight he was the one hugged by teary mothers who suddenly understood what it was that had turned their once-wayward sons or daughters around, he was quietly congratulated by serious fathers who’d recognised their debt to him, and he was raucously high-fived by excited students who just wanted to tell him they’d always known he was awesome. The only thing that got the crowd to disperse was that Shireen began reminding all the rowers of the student afterparty at her place and they began tugging their parents away from their conversations and shuttling them out the door.

“We have to grab one thing from the Hospitality Hub before we can head back to your place,” Arya said, grabbing Gendry’s arm. “Follow me!”

He glanced around at the last few stragglers gathering their belongings and thanked his lucky stars that the school maintenance crew would be stuck with the cleanup.

He trailed after Arya until she led him to a massive freezer in the school’s state-of-the-art commercial kitchens. 

“You grab the rum and raisin and the coffee gelato and I’ll get the sorbet at the chocolate-coated waffle cones,” she said, pointing through the frosted glass.

Gendry obeyed and followed her back to the car where she held the trunk open for him. He noticed it was filled with boxes of fancy champagne coupes.

“Are you providing more treats?” he asked laughing. “I’m pretty sure you’ve done your bit for the staff tonight.”

“Nonsense,” she replied. “Now get in the car.”

Back at the boathouse, Gendry roped the coaches into unloading the contents of Arya’s car, which she’d thoughtfully reversed into her usual spot, and he quickly assembled his dip at the kitchen bench while Arya bustled around him, raiding his drawers for what she needed to make everyone limoncello cocktails.

Tormund had been set to work out on the balcony scooping gelato for those who wanted it and before too long, they were all seated amongst the fairy lights relaxing and laughing and thanking Arya over and over for the announcement she’d made earlier. Just as she’d done with Gendry she turned the thanks straight back onto them, citing the data, and said she was glad she was able to see that the right recognition went to the right people.

Gendry sat down with Grey Worm and Missandei who were still trying to process the enormity of the announcement.

“It’s just huge, you know?” Missandei was saying. “My dad’s not been well and it’s amazing to suddenly be able to afford to really help him.”

“And it’s such an acknowledgement of what we actually do,” Grey Worm agreed. “I think my parents sometimes wish they could boast that I’d become a doctor or something even though they do support my choices. They’ll really appreciate this news. I think Mum will enjoy telling her friends that her son is a well-paid  _ expert teacher _ at Riverlands Grammar School.”

“Thanks for taking such good care of everything here, Gendry,” Missandei added. “This is all thanks to you, really.”

Gendry shrugged. “Arya says the data doesn’t lie. I could never have done everything she said all by myself so you must have earned it!”

He was thankful neither of them asked what his non-existent parents would think of it all. Instead, he looked over to where Arya stood in his kitchen, making cocktails at the bench while she chatted with Ygritte and Jon. 

There was that sensation again, not so much heart pain, he thought, as yearning. 

He loved watching Arya pottering around his kitchen as if she owned the place.  _ Gods _ , he wanted to share it with her. Maybe now that the Board had promoted him to Faculty Head and the School Executive he could actually be someone she’d think about like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this compulsion to write Gendry as incredibly successful and amazing but bashful and not able to see it. I'm laying it on thick here, I know, but I've got to get this chapter out of the way because next chapter there'll be... Well, you'll have to wait and see! Thanks so much for all the love you've been giving this fic!


	11. Chapter 11

When three a.m. rolled around, Arya was good-naturedly shooing away the last remaining people who were offering to help as she washed and dried her fancy champagne glasses and put them back in their boxes. Gendry walked his last guests out to their cars and when he came back up the stairs he found she’d stacked all her belongings neatly on the balcony and was leaning over the railing watching the way the reflected fairy lights and the huge full moon twinkled in the water below. 

“Almost time to hit the water, coach,” she said, holding up her arm and turning her gold wristwatch toward him when he came to stand beside her.

Gendry turned to look at her. “You want to row?” he asked incredulously. “Now?”

Arya shrugged. “Easier to row now while we’re awake than to have to heave ourselves out of bed to do it later on.”

He laughed. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

She nodded, slipping off her gold heels and shrinking a few inches in the process.

“You’ll have to take your suit off,” she warned. “That wool can’t get wet.”

Gendry only knew that he didn’t want to have to say goodnight to her just yet so he obediently slipped off his jacket and hung it over a nearby chair. 

“What about your dress?” Gendry asked, loosening his tie to take it off. “It’s too beautiful to ruin in a boat.”

“That’s the sad thing about a figure-head job like this,” she said, glancing fondly down at her gown. “I never get to wear the same thing twice. Might as well have some fun in it.”

“I should warn you,” he said as he unbuckled his belt and hesitantly let the waistband of his trousers slip over the curve of his backside, wondering if maybe she was only joking, “I am wearing my Stormlands Football boxer shorts.”

Arya gave him a stern stare. “I’ll try to overlook your divided loyalties.”

Gendry chuckled as he kicked off his trousers and socks, rolled up his shirtsleeves and followed her down the stairs to the boatshed in bare feet. “I cannot believe we’re doing this.”

Arya was already in there fetching their oars. He traipsed in after her to help her lift out the double scull and get it onto the water.

The night was still warm even on the river and he held out a steady hand to help Arya as she carefully stepped into the boat.

“Did you actually drink any of those cocktails you were making everyone else?” he asked.

“Only one,” she admitted as she steadied herself in the scull and reached out for the oars Gendry passed to her. “Remember my paranoia about scandals? Alcohol is just not worth the risk.”

“I only had the one drink too. But I think I maybe ate four or five serves of gelato to make up for it,” he confessed.

“Less opportunity for scandal where gelato’s concerned,” laughed Arya.

“Until you have a newly appointed Head of the Rowing Faculty who can no longer squeeze himself into a scull.”

Arya glanced up at him from her seat in the boat and gave him another one of those appreciative once overs she’d kept giving him while he was trying on suits. It felt a little bit more intimate with him standing there in just his shirt and boxers.

“I think we’re a little way off that particular calamity, don’t you?” she asked, her tone rakish.

Gendry felt his face flush as he clambered into the scull behind her. 

“Ready?” he said, hearing the unsteadiness of his voice in the dark.

“Ready,” she said lightly.

The light of the full moon directly above them caused a white halo glow on Arya’s gleaming hair as they pulled on their oars in unison and guided the scull out into the current. 

The minimal scarlet straps and the low cut of her dress at the back meant that Gendry had an even less-restricted view of her toned shoulders and back than usual as they worked together over the oars. Her elegant up-do was tumbling a little out of its fastenings so that a couple of curls escaped in wispy tendrils down her back. He felt sure that if he hadn’t had the oars to focus on, he wouldn’t have been able to resist reaching out to gently touch them.

“Do you know, I think I’m already excited for next year’s Yule Ball,” she said once they found their rhythm. 

Gendry grinned. “Glad to hear it. I was hoping you’d enjoy yourself.”

“Did you have fun?” she asked.

“I think I’m still trying to take it all in but, yeah, I definitely had fun somewhere in the midst of all the life-changing upheaval. You really left everyone stunned, you know that? But in a good way, of course!” he added hurriedly.

“I’m sorry that I ended up being the one to make that pay rise announcement in the end,” she said. “I had said that I’d leave that to you.”

Gendry laughed. “I think your method of communication definitely had a greater impact, don’t you?”

“It was fun to be able to share the discovery I’d made with the community who most benefited from it,” she agreed.

Gendry didn’t know how to respond. He still struggled to believe the truth of it.

They rowed together in silence for a while, enjoying their shared rhythm and the beauty of the canopy of trees overhead, leaves glinting silver in the moonlit night.

When they reached their usual halfway point, they maneuvered the scull around to begin their return to the boathouse.

“It didn’t feel quite right to labour the point in front of everyone tonight,” she said eventually as the fairy lights on Gendry’s balcony came back into view, “but it really is amazing what you’ve achieved, Gendry. I’ve analysed a lot of school data in my time and I have never seen such a clear-cut difference being so easily attributable to one staff appointment. I didn’t let myself believe it at first because I thought it was my bias operating. I sent the data to a bunch of other education industry analysts without any comment and all their findings came back the same, together with multiple attempts to poach you from our staff.  _ You _ are the unequivocal common denominator across all of those huge success trajectories towards personal and collective improvement for our rowers.”

He didn’t even know how to process the enormity of her claims so he stuck to the one phrase she’d used that had struck him as being about her rather than him.

“What’s this bias you were worried about?” Gendry asked.

“You,” she said simply. “Even though it was such an enormous shift, I never hesitated to believe that you  _ could _ be responsible for all of it and then I realised that was maybe because I- well, because I- you know... I like you.”

Had Arya not hesitated the way she did, Gendry wouldn’t have let himself assume anything. But she  _ did _ hesitate, so he gave himself full permission.

“You didn’t doubt what you thought you were seeing because you _ like _ me?” he repeated hopefully.

“I didn’t doubt it for a second,” she said earnestly. “In all my time working in schools, you’re the most amazing person I’ve encountered. But I knew that even before I saw the data.”

Gendry couldn’t immediately find his voice to respond so he concentrated on pulling the scull alongside the dock and steadying himself so he could jump out onto the rough wooden panels and hold out his hand to help Arya.

She was looking up at him anxiously, as though worried she’d said too much.

He steadily met her gaze as she took his hand, trying to convey all that he felt without risking actual words tumbling out, words that, once out there, he knew could never be taken back.

Arya let him help her up, never taking her eyes from his and once she was steady on her feet he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. She didn’t hesitate before throwing her arms around his neck in response.

Gendry pressed his face into her shoulder, feeling a little as though he might cry.

“Thank you, Arya,” he whispered.

When she pulled away from him she was smiling warmly, letting her hands slip down slowly over his shoulders and upper arms. 

“You can show your everlasting gratitude to me by helping me carry my stuff to my car,” she said slyly, squeezing him around his biceps before dropping her hands to her side and spinning on her toes to swan away from him.

Gendry grinned and padded after her in his bare feet.

There were quite a few boxes to carry so it took them more than one trip to get everything into the trunk.

Once Arya slammed the trunk shut, she pushed herself up to sit on the lid, facing the gleaming river. 

“Would you look at that?” she whispered.

Gendry didn’t want to risk denting her expensive car with his much greater bodyweight so instead he turned to lean beside her noticing as he settled back that his forearm rested somewhat intimately against her thigh.

“Maybe we need to start getting out earlier,” he mused. “It was pretty amazing rowing under a full moon, don’t you think?”

He turned his head to see what Arya might have to say about it and found that she’d simultaneously turned to look at him. 

She was right there. He was almost nose to nose with her. He could feel her warm breath on his face.

No amount of the self-discipline he’d apparently been fostering in his rowers could have stopped his eyes in that moment from dropping to the swell of her full pink lips.

That bold step made, with her leaning imperceptibly towards him, nothing was going to stand in the way of their meeting in the middle - the first soft brush of her mouth leading to a more urgent capturing of her lips with his.

When he pulled back, staggered by this development, checking it was somehow okay that he’d just gone and kissed her, he found Arya smiling softly, eyes closed in the moonlight.

He watched as she slowly opened them to steadily meet his gaze.

“Can I confess something, Gendry?” she said breathlessly, a mischievous twinkle in her grey eyes.

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I was seventeen.”

Heightened emotion or not, he couldn’t help but laugh at her surprise announcement. 

“You’ve wanted to kiss someone since you were seventeen?” he asked. “And you haven’t found an opportunity before now? I don’t believe that for a second.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “I’ve kissed men before, obviously,” she said. “But since I was seventeen, I specifically wanted to kiss  _ you _ , Gendry Waters. And now that I’ve managed it, I can only congratulate myself on such an excellent aspiration for one so young.”

“We only just met this year,” he argued half-heartedly, more interested in getting back to the actual kissing. “Seventeen-year-old you didn’t even know I existed.”

Arya shook her head, her smile coy. “I was there when you won your first solo gold,” she said. “I was in the crowd on the riverbank. I hadn’t been selected to compete yet but Winterfell Fencing took me to the Games for the experience. None of our fencers had bouts that day and everyone was talking about this huge new rower from the Stormlands. We all went out to the river to see you compete and we were all screaming for you to win because, well, truthfully, our Winterfell rower was a dick.” She laughed quietly to herself. “You stepped out of that scull in your unisuit with muscles on your muscles looking like you couldn’t believe what had just happened and I practically swooned.”

He shook his head in total disbelief. “Dr Arya Stark does not  _ swoon _ ,” he insisted. 

She went on, laughing. “Remember that massive poster of you that they released in the Games edition of  _ Westeros Sports _ that year?”

Gendry hung his head at the memory. He’d been so embarrassed.

Arya gently placed her hand on his chin and lifted his face towards her. “I had that poster secretly stuck inside my wardrobe for years. Though I may have had a few kisses since, the only boy I kissed as a teenager was the paper version of you!”

“No way,” he said quietly, still shaking his head but not so vigorously as to dislodge her hand from where it still rested gently against his jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“I promise it’s true,” she assured him. “But I was never,  _ ever  _ going to tell you about it for reasons that I would have thought would be obvious. How exactly does one even start that conversation when reunited with the still-swoon-worthy man, that many years after the event in question?”

Gendry looked down, unable to hide his grin. “Swoon-worthy?”

“ _ Very _ swoon-worthy,” she replied.

“Well, I didn’t believe I was ever going to be allowed to kiss you,” he offered, meeting her eye. “And even though I can’t claim I’ve been wanting to since I was a teenager, I can tell you that I have  _ really _ been wanting to.”

“You have?” she asked, her eyes hopeful.

“Arya-” he said gently letting his gaze drop once more to her lips. 

She cut him off with another kiss before he could blurt it all out, the hand resting on his jaw winding up and around his neck until she buried her fingers in his hair.

Every sensation felt as though it were magnified a thousand times. Their kiss was slow and tender and sweet and it filled Gendry’s chest with burbling hope.

“Can I come by later?” she asked breathlessly when she finally broke away, her forehead pressed against his.

“To row some more?” he asked cheekily.

She glanced down at her watch. “I think Monday’s rowing is done,” she said firmly, pushing herself off the trunk and wandering around to the driver door. “I just thought maybe we could spend some of our day off together.”

“Definitely,” he agreed, grinning. “We can start with brunch.”

Arya beamed at him. “Perfect.”


	12. Chapter 12

He woke to the sound of thunder. It occurred to him that in the months he’d been starting the day rowing with Arya, it had never once rained. He grinned sleepily. Probably because Arya brought sunshine with her wherever she went. 

She’d probably punch him in the stomach if he tried to tell her that. Or she might give him one of those shy smiles he’d been seeing more and more of and that would definitely make it worth the gamble, especially now that  _ kissing _ was on the table as a follow up.

Gendry never usually got to sleep in. He barely even recognised the feel of the bedsheets against his bare skin, so accustomed was he to falling into bed exhausted every night and springing into action first thing every morning. He let himself stretch luxuriously and roll over onto his back, interlacing his fingers behind his head on the pillow and recalling the bliss of the night before. All those things he’d barely let himself hope for as a young man, suddenly being handed to him. Respect, admiration, achievement, and now, maybe even _ love _ . The love of  _ Arya Stark _ , no less, surely the most beautiful and intimidating and amazing woman in all of the known world.

He eventually forced himself out of bed so that he could at least be showered and dressed by the time she arrived. He grinned again at the thought. He was going to make her breakfast even if it was- he glanced at the clock- even if it was  _ significantly _ after noon. 

They were going to just hang out, without having to come up with an excuse for it! 

He smiled out at the pouring rain and, even though it wasn’t exactly cold, he wondered if he’d maybe be able to scrounge up enough dry wood to light a romantic fire in his barely used fireplace. The idea of curling up with Arya on the couch in front of a roaring fire certainly sounded worth whatever effort it would cost him.

She  _ wanted _ him. 

She wanted to be  _ with _ him.

It was all too good.

Gendry padded out of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes sleepily and only just noticed the Gazette folded up on the doormat outside the glass door to his covered balcony. 

Two days in a row of Riverlands Grammar featuring in the Gazette? Arya would be chuffed. Maybe that new dad really was eager to secure his daughter’s enrollment.

He slid the door open and caught sight of the headline.

“LADY ARYA’S BASE-BORN BOYTOY”

The balloon of happiness that had been gradually expanding in his chest exploded.

Beneath the headline were a series of photos that someone had obviously taken of them the day before at the mall.

Arya adjusting his tie.

Arya undoing the buttons of his suit jacket.

Arya running her hands over his chest to smooth his lapels.

And in each photo, him just looking down at her with a dopey lovelorn grin on his face.

It has been years since the height of his sporting fame when he’d had to think about avoiding paparazzi. Had he and Arya been naive to think they could go shopping together without creating a stir? 

It didn’t matter now. The scandal she’d been dreading had hit and it all revolved around  _ him _ .

He forced himself to read the vitriol concocted by some journalist he’d never heard of called Jeyne Poole.

_ Arya Stark, the recently celebrated new principal of Riverlands Grammar School seems to have spectacularly fallen from grace with news emerging that she has been seducing the help. Never known for her beauty, Arya “Horseface” Stark, no doubt lonely and unpopular in her new role, has turned for comfort to vulnerable staff members under her employ who, though almost certainly repulsed by her, are powerless to resist her overtures for fear of losing their positions.  _

_ One such victim is the hapless bastard, Gendry Waters, a washed-up former rower who, in order to survive, now is forced to coach the ill-disciplined children of well-heeled Riverlands society types. _

_ These intimate images captured by our staff photographer yesterday morning clearly show her bribing the over-muscled Mr Waters to tolerate her seductions by purchasing for him expensive clothing, well out of the reach of his own budget, and far beyond the modest clothing the poor man would usually afford. _

_ Stark has a history of fraternising with those well below her station, usually because she struggles to gain the respect of the high-borns among whom she was raised. _

_ No doubt this shocking revelation will cast her fledgling employment at exclusive Riverlands into doubt and send Mr Waters and his biceps back to the streets of Fleabottom whence he was spawned. _

_ It can only be hoped that the Riverlands community can weather such a scandal and survive the inevitable hemorrhaging of student enrolments in the wake of the loss of the revered Davos Seaworth, former principal. _

Gendry could only imagine how Arya must be feeling if the sickness in the pit of his own stomach was anything to go by. He grabbed for his phone to call her, to see if she was ok, but then he realised he and Arya had seen one another so often, they’d never felt a need to exchange numbers. He ran to fetch the school phone directory to find a way to contact her but each call he made went through to a voicemail that he couldn’t be sure would go directly to her. The last thing he wanted was to add to the scandal by leaving a message to be discovered by some unknown staff member up at the school.

He grabbed his keys, thinking to go to her house but then thought better of it. If he didn’t want to leave a phone message that might make things worse for her, he definitely didn’t want to be discovered at her house.

Maybe she would just appear on his door when she was ready, just as they’d planned under the full moon early that morning as she’d kissed him goodbye. 

Hour after hour Gendry paced about the boat house waiting for her, even as he knew with increasing certainty that she was never going to arrive.

Every moment he hatched a new plan to try to make it right, to try and rescue Arya from the hell she had no doubt found herself in. 

He could drive down to the Gazette offices and give that journalist a piece of his mind. 

He could go away somewhere, hide himself from view until everything died down. 

He supposed he could even tender his resignation.

But all he really wanted to do was  _ talk _ to her.

He eventually fell back into bed just before midnight, frantic and exhausted, and tossed and turned all night.

His alarm went off at 4am as usual, waking him out of a nightmare in which he was precariously strapped to the trunk of Arya’s car with all of the new neckties they’d just bought him as she sped around the school driveway taking the corners like a racecar driver. It was terrifying.

Though it was dark outside he could hear the steady rain still falling.

He didn’t even contemplate trying yoga.

The extra box of eggs and the extra pack of butter in the fridge taunted him as he tried to force down his breakfast, wondering if maybe she’d arrive.

Of course she didn’t.

He stomped down to the boathouse just after 4:40 but there was no sign of her. He didn’t want to wait until five. He didn’t want to be standing on the dock in the rain like an idiot. 

He yanked out the single scull and one set of oars and got himself out on the river, rowing against the current, facing the road.

The river was grey, the trees were grey, the sky seemed oppressively grey.

He glanced repeatedly at his watch as he yanked on the oars. 

4:55am on the dot, her yellow sports car appeared like a flash of sunshine.

His foolish heart lifted at the sight of it.

She must have seen him out there on the river like a drowned rat, watching for her.

Her car never hesitated or slowed. 

If anything, Arya sped past the boathouse faster than she ever had before, her wheels throwing up sheets of water as she raced around the corner.

Gendry dug his oars too deep into the river and pulled until his muscles ached.

_ What did he expect? _

Tuesday never improved.

On Wednesday morning it was still raining.

He put himself through exactly the same torturous routine right down to the moment he sat dripping in his single scull in the middle of the river watching Arya speed past.

When her car disappeared out of sight, Gendry resolved something. He would have to go up to the school and find her.

He stripped off his soaking gear, flinging bits and pieces all over the balcony, his wet t-shirt tangling in Arya’s still-robust plant, thankful that none of his coaches or rowers would be turning up to see him in this state for almost two full weeks. 

Maybe he’d be able to pull it together by then.

He tripped over the doormat and half fell, wet and naked, into his apartment. 

Maybe he’d need a little bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I'm the worst. But in my defence, it was Shakespeare himself who said that the course of true love never did run smooth!


	13. Chapter 13

Gendry showered carefully, ensuring no flecks of muddy water remained on his neck or in his ears and then padded through to his room wondering what on earth he should wear for an appointment with the principal.

The first thing he saw when he opened his wardrobe was his new suit.

He nodded. It felt right to at least try and make a good impression in the face of the awful things that had been said about him.

Base-born. Powerless. Hapless bastard. Washed-up. Well below Arya’s station.

He looked at himself in the mirror. The suit wasn’t going to do much to defend him against the weight of all of that, but he at least had to communicate to Arya that he would still be there for her should she ever want him.

He remembered her warning him not to get his suit wet so he grabbed one of the school umbrellas, emblazoned with the crest, and jogged out to his battered truck.

He took a deep breath and turned the key in the ignition praying to all the gods that the stupid thing would stop choking and start running. 

Whether they heard him or not, eventually it roared to life and he drove up to the main college campus where the classrooms were, peering through the motion of the windshield wipers at the glistening school driveway winding ahead.

Of course, no one thought to reserve a special parking spot for the Director of Rowing, so he drove around for a while before he found somewhere to leave the truck and then had to find his way through the maze of ivy-adorned sandstone buildings to Arya’s office. 

He sensed curious eyes on him as he wandered aimlessly down corridors regretting the suit and shiny shoes when everyone was accustomed to seeing him in his battered boat shoes, shorts and Riverlands hoodie. 

He saw gaggles of impeccably uniformed students that he’d never seen on the water, nudging one another and pointing in his direction. 

He saw the odd teacher raising surprised eyebrows at the sight of someone like him in _their_ part of the school. 

He longed for a friendly face but none of his rowers seemed to be walking along any of the hallways that he was wandering.

At last he found a polished plaque directing him to the Principal’s Office.

He took a hesitant step in and found himself accosted by the efficient looking woman behind the reception desk.

“Can I help you, Mr Waters?” she asked briskly.

“Err, I was hoping to see Dr Stark?” he asked. “Please?”

“She’s holding some rather urgent talks with her new assistant but I’ll see if she has a moment to spare for you,” the lady said, picking up the phone and pressing a single key.

Gendry tried not to watch her too intently as she said into the receiver, “Dr Stark? Mr Waters is here hoping for a brief moment with you.”

He was hoping for a _life time_ with her but he supposed now wasn’t the moment to declare that particular intention.

“Mmmm,” said the receptionist, which Gendry felt was open to a raft of possible interpretations.

She put down the phone.

“Miss Tarth will be out to fetch you in a moment,” she said, waving a hand towards the row of chairs against the wall.

On one of them sat a nervous looking student clutching an unmistakable Riverlands suspension slip, probably waiting for his angry parents to arrive and frogmarch him out of there. 

Gendry sat a few seats away from him contemplating which of them was likely feeling worse.

A statuesque blonde woman appeared in the doorway behind the receptionist. Gendry wondered how he had never seen her around the school before.

“Mr Waters?” she asked pleasantly.

He got to his feet and shook the hand she offered him.

“I’m Brienne Tarth. I used to work with Dr Stark at Winterfell and she recently requested my assistance here at Riverlands. I’ll be working closely with her from now on. Do come in.”

Gendry followed her through the impressive oak doors into Arya’s huge office beyond. He glanced around at the imposing wood panelled walls remembering that Arya had once told him they were secret cupboards hiding all her office clothes and shoes and jewelry so she never had to wear that stuff at home. It didn’t feel right to be privy to that information given his reasons for standing there.

At last he forced himself to look at Arya herself, seated at her desk, typing frantically at a laptop, pointedly not looking at him. She wore a sleeveless red silk outfit with an embroidered blue floral pattern. He couldn’t help but notice that she looked tired.

He cleared his throat. “Err, Dr Stark?”

“Yes, Mr Waters?” she said, still typing. 

He glanced at Miss Tarth, standing behind Arya’s shoulder writing notes on a clipboard. 

“I was wondering if I might be able to have a quick word with you in private?”

Arya lifted her head at last but the look she gave him was pitying. “I’m sorry, Mr Waters. Miss Tarth and I think that perhaps it’s best if under the, erm, circumstances, you and I are not seen alone together for the foreseeable future.”

Gendry nodded and steeled himself to say a different version of the words he’d originally planned to say to her alone.

“I’m sorry about the article,” he said. “I know it’s the last thing you needed.”

“Yes,” she said briskly. “But we’re doing what we can to manage it.”

“To manage it?” he asked weakly.

Her eyes slid back to the screen in front of her. “To minimise the damage done to the reputation of Riverlands Grammar.”

“Of course,” he agreed hastily. He took a deep breath. “I suppose I just wondered what might happen with, um, between, err-”

“Between us you mean, Mr Waters?” Arya asked, her crisp reply reminding him just how badly he was failing in his goal of clear communication.

“Err, yeah,” he muttered.

“Running a school requires sacrifices,” Arya announced loudly, almost as if she were addressing a crowd, or perhaps just addressing herself. “It seems I lost sight of that for a little while. While I can’t definitively predict what the future may hold, for now I think it’s not really an appropriate relationship for me to be pursuing. And, of course, I am terribly busy, what with all of this.” She waved her hand above her head in a manner that he supposed was intended to convey a sense of the universe and everything in it.

Gendry felt as though his heart might be somewhere near his shoes.

“Should I still expect you for rowing training in the mornings?” he asked, wishing he didn’t sound quite so desperate. “I could arrange for Ygritte or Missandei to row with you when they get back from their break if you’d prefer?”

“Thank you, Gendry,” she said, and for the first time her voice sounded like the voice she used when she was with him out on the river. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

The phone rang and Brienne reached over to answer it, immediately being drawn into what sounded like an intensely important conversation.

Arya stood to her feet and walked around the desk toward him. 

With her back to Brienne she gave him a sad smile and mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.”

Gendry nodded and stepped backwards towards the door, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill out right there onto the expensive carpet of the principal’s enormous office.

“Goodbye, Arya,” he whispered, and then he more or less made a run for it.

  
  


On Thursday morning it was _still_ raining. It suited his mood. He had begun to hope the rain would never stop. 

The only thing he could think of that might help him cope with the dull ache in his chest was an extra hour on the water. 

He slumped down to the boatshed at 4am, skipping yoga _and_ breakfast because his usual menu held no appeal for him, and yanked out the single scull, dragging it unceremoniously down the dock and tossing it into the water. 

He was already wet anyway, what difference would it make if his scull was half submerged?

He pushed his oar against the wood of the dock and guided his scull out into the current. Maybe if he worked himself really hard he could just sleep for the rest of the day and not have to manage his crushing disappointment for a few hours.

Since he’d left Arya’s office the day before, one phrase had been circling around and around in his mind: “ _it’s not really an appropriate relationship for me to be pursuing_.”

What had he been thinking?

Arya Stark was born in a castle. If she hadn’t earned a PhD from the best university in Westeros and chosen to use that to determine her title within the school, he’d be supposed to address her as _Lady_ Stark. She was born with the proverbial silver spoon firmly between her teeth, as highborn as they come.

Gendry didn’t even know his own parents. He was baseborn Fleabottom scum who by sheer dumb luck had been plucked out of obscurity by virtue of his brawn alone and given a chance to make something of himself. He’d lumbered through life on the strength of things he could do with his muscles and he’d had the audacity to imagine that someone like _her_ would actually want to have anything more to do with him than that. What an _idiot_.

He looked up at the sky as it poured down buckets of water on him and just slumped back into the scull, lying in the middle of the river in the rain as it soaked him to the skin. He let his eyes fall closed and thought maybe he’d just hide out there for another hour or two, anything to stop the sense of each day dragging on until the rowing season started again and he had something else to throw his energies into other than just being miserable.

But for the moment, miserable was what he was. Never a better time, all alone in the rain in the middle of a river, to let himself actually feel it all.

He almost melted at the memory of the soft brush of Arya’s lips against his and all of the blissful promise it had held - promises he now knew could never be kept.

With the rain pouring down his face, the tears he finally let himself cry were indistinguishable. He threw an arm over his brow and thoroughly wallowed.

At first Gendry thought the sound of his name being yelled frantically from the riverbank must have been an illusion. It was well before five a.m., no one knew he was even out there. 

Well, not anyone who cared. 

But when snatches of sound kept floating out to him across the water he sat up to see what was going on.

There on the dock, silhouetted in the glow of the fairy lights he hadn’t yet mustered up the energy or patience to untangle and put away, was Dr Arya Stark, Principal of Riverlands Grammar School, screaming his name, yanking off her shoes, looking for all the world as if she were about to dive into the water and swim out to him.

When she saw that he’d righted himself in the scull, he watched her clutch a hand to her heaving chest and collapse to her knees onto the rough wood.

Gendry thought he’d better get over there and see if she was alright. 

He grabbed his oars and rowed for the boathouse aware of her unyielding gaze on him.

“Are you ok?” she was yelling at him as he drew near. 

Gendry pulled in beside her and she yanked at his arm trying to heave him out of the scull onto the dock. The way she looked at him as he clambered out to stand in front of her, her eyes searching his face, felt almost like a desperate embrace.

“I saw you from the road,” she said frantically, her hair dripping into her eyes. “You were just lying there in the boat. I thought maybe you’d blacked out or something!” 

“I’m ok, Arya,” he muttered, gently slipping his arm out of her grasp. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Don’t _you_ apologise,” she said quietly. “It should be me apologising to you. I wish things hadn’t happened this way.”

Gendry shrugged. What could he say? She’d made her position pretty clear the previous day.

“You better go,” he said, looking at his watch. “You don’t want anyone to see you.”

Arya looked at her own watch as if trying to somehow find some more time.

“I guess you’re right,” she said sadly. “But I do miss it down here with you.”

“It was stupid of me to start training you myself,” Gendry said bitterly. “I should have asked one of the girls to do it. Then you could still have your mornings on the river without having to worry about all this bonkers nonsense.” He hung his head. “I hate that _I_ turned out to be the scandal you were dreading.”

Arya stepped closer to him, reaching for where his hands hung in futile fists by his side. He reluctantly let her interlace her warm fingers with his cold ones.

“What I loved about my mornings on the river was more about you than the rowing you know,” she whispered, looking down at their joined hands.

“You just can’t say that sort of thing to me anymore, Arya,” he said, gently pulling his hands out of her reach and folding them across his chest. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you, but I don’t want you to jeopardise your job here either. I’m not going to let Riverlands lose an amazing principal because of me.”

She nodded, chastened.

“But if I could work out how to fight it, I would,” he assured her.

Arya smiled sadly. “I’m working on it.”

“There’s a bank of rowing machines in the school gym,” he said lightly, pushing his wet hair back from his face. “They might help to keep you in condition in the meantime.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” she said.

“And I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve found yourself a new wife to replace me,” he observed wryly.

“Brienne? Yeah, I guess she was sort of my wife back at Winterfell.”

“So you at least know she’s up to the task. I was a bit of a wild card, you have to admit.”

“I guess,” she shrugged. “But I was willing to take the risk.” 

“I’m glad you’ve got someone in your corner, Arya,” he said earnestly. “Someone you can trust.”

Her grey eyes gazed up into his face as she patently struggled with whether to stay or go.

He stepped back and folded his arms across his chest to try and make it easier for her.

Arya let her eyes drift over him a moment and then seemingly got the message. 

She nodded decisively. “See you ‘round then, Gendry,” she murmured as she turned away.

“Ok,” was all he replied.

Watching her traipse up the embankment to her car, his heart felt the tiniest bit lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry to have caused so much distress in these difficult times. Stick with me, people! I promise I'm committed to a happy ending once we wade through some mild angst just for the sake of having an actual plot!


	14. Chapter 14

On Friday morning, when he had stowed the single scull and was making his way back up to his flat in the ongoing rain, he was surprised to see a bright headlight beam swing past him as a car parked on the top of the embankment. The door of the sleek black sedan opened and a silver umbrella bloomed above it, initially obscuring the driver from sight.

As the person unfolded themselves out of the car and stood to their full height, Gendry was left with little doubt as to who his visitor could be.

He watched as Arya’s assistant carefully picked her way down the riverbank in her heeled black boots.

“Ms Tarth,” he called, beckoning her towards him. “Please, come up here out of the rain.”

She followed him up the wooden stairs onto his covered balcony, her heels resounding around the boatshed below as she walked.

“Mr Waters,” she said as she finally stepped undercover and collapsed her umbrella with a snap, leaning it against the railing. “I have a delivery for you from Dr Stark.” She held out a large manila envelope that she’d somehow managed to keep perfectly dry. “She hopes you might find the time to peruse the information contained within and she says she’ll be in touch very soon to learn your response.”

“Thank you for bringing it by personally. Can I get you anything while you’re here?” Gendry asked. “A tea or a coffee perhaps?”

The tall woman smiled. “You’re very gracious, Mr Waters. Much more gracious than many others would manage to be under your circumstances.”

Gendry shrugged. “None of this is your fault, Ms Tarth.”

“Nor is any of it yours, Mr Waters,” she said firmly, “Though I suspect you’re finding that difficult to believe.”

Her stern gaze made an odd combination with her reassuring words.

“I suppose we’ll have to see how it all unfolds,” he replied noncommittally. 

Ms Tarth reached once more for her umbrella. “You will prioritise engaging with that information, won’t you, Mr Waters? There’s a fair bit to take in.”

He laughed humourlessly. “I have very little else on my schedule just now,” he said. “So you may assure Dr Stark that it is my very top priority.”

Brienne nodded. “Thank you. I shall be sure to pass that on to her. Goodbye, Mr Waters.”

He sighed. “Goodbye, Ms Tarth.”

Her footsteps echoed around the balcony as she walked back down the stairs and Gendry slid open the glass door into his flat. He grabbed the towel he’d remembered to lay out for himself and after a quick glance about to ensure he wasn’t expecting any more visitors, stripped off his rowing kit, flung the dripping items over the railing, being careful to avoid Arya’s plant, and wrapped the towel around his waist, tucking one end into the top to hold it secure.

He threw the envelope onto the table deciding that he couldn’t face it until he’d at least made himself a pot of tea.

He watched for the kettle to boil, wondering if the envelope was going to contain a love letter or a severance package or something in between. It had some weight to it so maybe it was both.

Tea in hand he finally forced himself to walk over to the table and confront it. 

He ripped open the end and tipped the contents out in front of him: a USB labeled _Watch me!_ , three folded copies of the Riverlands Gazette held together with a bulldog clip and a post-it that said _Read the Letters to the Editor!_ and another smaller, unmarked envelope.

Deciding the video demanded the least of his effort, he pulled his laptop towards him, plugged in the thumb drive and opened up the video file.

Brienne Tarth’s face filled the screen.

“Riverlands Principal Debrief, date and time stamped as per the watermark. This is a personal and confidential recording, the property of Dr Arya Stark. If you are viewing this file without Dr Stark’s direct permission, you are in blatant breach of her privacy. I request that you cease watching this immediately and return it to the possession of Dr Stark.” 

She seemed to begin talking to someone out of shot. “Now, we’ll resume taping our important conversations like we used to at Winterfell so that we know we can find records of anything you might need to refer back to later. Does that sound good to you, Arya?”

Ms Tarth stepped back to reveal Arya, seated in a plush armchair in the same embroidered red silk outfit she’d been wearing when he’d visited her office earlier in the week. She looked tired but relatively relaxed, one ankle crossed daintily over the other showing off her strappy black heels.

When Ms Tarth took the armchair opposite her, Gendry was given the distinct impression that he was watching some kind of talk show interview.

“Sounds good to me, Bri,” Arya said smiling. “It’s so good to have you here. How did I last so long without you?”

“The gods only know. Alright, a quick timeline of events for context,” Brienne said, consulting some notes she’d made on her clipboard, “It’s now Wednesday afternoon. Saturday was, what was it called again? The big rowing event?”

“Riverrrun,” Arya supplied. “And Riverlands hosted the final regatta.” 

“That’s right,” Brienne continued. “Sunday morning the Riverlands Gazette gave the school wonderful press focused on the rowing captain selected for the games-“

“-Shireen Baratheon,” Arya added.

“Shireen Baratheon,” Brienne repeated, “as well as providing a good deal of coverage of the Games career of Gendry Waters. After this, you and Gendry went suit shopping and, unbeknownst to you, you were photographed together in a somewhat compromising situation. Sunday night was the Annual Rowing Dinner. Monday morning the Gazette published the photos together with a damning-“

“Libelous?” Arya added archly.

“And potentially libelous report about the nature of the relationship between the two of you, casting nasty aspersions about both of your backgrounds and your motivations for being together. The school’s legal team have been hard at work on it. Correct so far?”

“Correct.”

Brienne gave her notes another quick glance. “You called me on Sunday around noon as soon as you saw the paper. Winterfell School always knew I’d end up following you here eventually so they were horrified but not unsurprised when I gave them half-an-hour’s notice of my resignation. Jamie Lannister’s doing a terrible job of trying to be their new principal, not sure how long he’ll last but, who cares? That’s what happens when a school board goes for image over substance. He’s no longer my problem to manage and, honestly, I’d done all I was going to be able to do for him. I arrived here late last night and only a couple of hours ago, Gendry Waters, all dressed up in that magnificent suit I assume you just bought him, was in here making puppy dog eyes at you until you shooed him away.”

“Puppy dog eyes?” Arya echoed vaguely.

“Or however you prefer to think of them. Right, so it’s just us now, Arya,” Brienne said warmly. “Why don’t you tell me everything I should know about Gendry Waters.”

Gendry leaned forward in his chair, eager to hear what Arya might say and hoping it wasn’t going to be more condescending rubbish about puppy dog eyes that, if anything, only served to affirm what the article claimed about them.

“Well, I’ve come to think about my time so far at Riverlands Grammar in two distinct periods,” Arya began. “B.G. and A.G.”

Brienne smiled. “Before Gendry and After Gendry?”

“Precisely,” Arya nodded, smiling sheepishly. “Before Gendry, my time here was one long, waking nightmare of feeling utterly overwhelmed and lonely and out of my depth and homesick. The staff weren’t warming up to me, the school was a mystery, I couldn’t find my feet and I could barely find a friendly face.”

“And After Gendry?” Brienne prompted.

The smile that bloomed on Arya’s face simultaneously bloomed within Gendry’s chest.

“When I met Gendry, I found someone who actually helped me start to _live_ in this place and find joy and feel supported to do what I came here to do. You know those first few weeks in a new school when you’re trying to find the beating heart of the place? You always make a few false starts, thinking to yourself, ‘Ah, _now_ I know what it’s about,’ and then later, ‘No, now I _really_ get it.’ Well, the moment I really got it was the moment I realised that all the good stuff revolved around Gendry.”

“And that was just your hunch at first, am I right?” Brienne asked.

“Correct,” said Arya. “Listening to students and parents talk about him, you’d think he was one of the gods incarnate! I mean, I did see him out there on the river every morning as I drove down the stretch of driveway that meanders along the river between my residence and the school and, I mean, he looked _good_ out there, I’m not going to deny that, but I thought surely no one could be _that_ impressive.”

“Though you’d been pretty impressed by him before,” Brienne said cheekily.

Gendry saw Arya’s face flush.

“But that was just a young women’s crush on a handsome sporting figure. And he _is_ handsome, you can’t argue with that, Bri!”

“Nor would I want to!” Brienne replied, her palms held up in surrender. “And I’m sure I don’t need to make this observation to you of all people, but though he was attractive as a young man, his looks have really matured, haven’t they? Those crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiles?”

Arya nodded decisively. “So that’s one thing I’m contending with - the man is a stone cold _fox_.”

“And not just _any_ stone cold fox, if I remember rightly.” Brienne’s tone was playful. “Didn’t you once drunkenly confess to kissing his poster goodnight for most of your teens?”

Arya laughed. “And into my twenties!”

“So you can’t pretend that you came to that first meeting with your Director of Rowing without some definite preconceived notions,” posed Brienne.

“True,” Arya agreed. “Of course, I expected to find him attractive and I expected to like him but there was more than that. I was curious as to why the praises I kept hearing were so high. How could one man have made such a significant impact on so many families? I wanted to know. Was it just those sexy eye crinkles or was there more to it? And Shireen Baratheon’s Games selection! With her still so young! What a triumph! I mean, she’s obviously a great talent but she’d been so well prepared! How had he managed it?”

“So how was your first meeting?” Brienne asked.

Arya grinned again. “I knew from my own observations that the best time to catch him would be before he got out on the water early in the morning. I’d had this idea that a good way to get to know him would be to see him in action, so I decided to ask him to teach me to row.”

“I cannot believe that Arya Stark’s only motivation in taking up a new sport was reconnaissance,” Brienne scoffed.

“You know me, Bri,” Arya laughed. “A sport is a sport and I _was_ going a little bit nuts without anyone to fight. As well as being a chance to get to know the man, it was a chance for me to find a little bit of an outlet for myself.”

“And I understand you’ve come to love it,” the taller woman observed. 

“I really have,” Arya said sincerely. “And I’m missing it desperately. Though it’s hard for me to untangle whether it’s the boat or the man I’m missing more.”

Gendry smiled to himself. It was becoming more and more apparent to him that things were a long way from over between him and Arya.

“But he impressed you?” Brienne asked. “As a rowing coach?”

“Absolutely,” Arya nodded vigorously. “He has so much expertise but he’s clearly so practised at condensing it for his beginners and explaining and demonstrating everything so that it all makes perfect sense. He claimed that I took to it so quickly because of my sporting background, but I doubt that beginning with any old rowing coach would have made it all seem quite so easy.”

“And you began to row together every morning?”

“Yes, I was eager to keep going after that first session and Gendry was very encouraging. I was worried at first that I would be imposing on his solitude but he told me that he’d always preferred the double scull but since his shoulder injury Tormund had proved too strong for him.”

“Tormund?” Brienne asked.

“One of Gendry’s coaches. An absolute giant of a man,” Arya supplied. “The reddest hair you’ve ever seen. And quite a character.”

Brienne grinned. “I like the sound of him.”

“I’ll have to arrange a meeting,” Arya laughed. Then her face fell. “Well, as long as we can sort all of this out, that is.”

Though the idea of the proper Brienne and the insane Tormund together was laughable, Gendry wanted to shout into the computer that they’d somehow find a way. He watched as Brienne reached over and patted Arya’s knee comfortingly. 

“We will, Arya. You saw the letters.”

Arya nodded and sat up straighter in her chair. “Alright, so, after a few weeks Jon came to visit.”

“And immediately tumbled into a torrid affair with another of Gendry’s red-haired coaches?” Brienne said wryly.

“Pretty much. I was a mess of emotions - happy for him, sad for me, slightly miffed, threatening to cut off his balls if he did anything that reflected badly on me or the school - you know how it goes.”

Brienne laughed. “And Gendry helped you through it?”

“Gendry was a tower of strength. Jon liked him straight away _and_ he knew straight away that I was developing a searing crush on him. He almost gave me away actually, long before I’d begun to imagine anything might actually happen between Gendry and I. I took Jon down to the boathouse when I finally found time to give him a tour and of course when we pull in to park the car on the riverbank, there’s poor Gendry, completely unwarned about our arrival, out there on the dock in the sunshine fiddling about with the sculls with no shirt on.”

Brienne grinned. “That must have been quite a sight to behold.”

Arya fanned herself theatrically. “Oh, Bri, let me tell you. Unsurprisingly, it turns out that twenty years of rowing every day has _quite_ an effect on the male form. Gendry is a truly exemplary specimen. Even Jon was impressed. Of course he teased me mercilessly about ogling my rowing coach and I was so red in the face and flustered by the time we got down the embankment to talk to him-”

“-You had to make conversation with him while he was standing there all shirtless?” Brienne asked.

“Thank the gods, no,” Arya laughed. “We watched him scrabbling about trying to find it as soon as he realised we were coming to see him and thankfully, for the sake of my dignity, he was fully clothed before we’d even really gotten out the car.”

“So Jon knew you liked Gendry and he was teasing you about it and suddenly you’re spending all this time together?”

“And trying to run a school, I know,” Arya agreed, shaking her head. “Terrible time to finally find a man.”

“Alright, you know I don’t want this to come across as harsh, Arya,” Brienne said seriously, “but it never occured to you that people might find your blossoming relationship with a staff member to be a problem?”

Arya sighed. “I was paranoid about everything else,” she admitted, “but somehow I just couldn’t let myself worry about how my friendship with Gendry was being perceived because I couldn’t stand the thought of having to take a step back from him.”

“And there’s more between you and Gendry now than what the Gazette reported isn’t there?”

Arya gnawed at her bottom lip. “Well, I hope there still is.”

Gendry reached across and paused the video, scrubbing a hand over his face. He felt utterly helpless watching Arya wondering if he still wanted anything to do with her when he couldn’t just reach out and take her into his arms.

He looked down and realised he’d been sitting at the kitchen table with only a damp towel around his waist for the last half hour. No wonder he felt freezing. He forced himself up out of his chair to have a shower. He’d have to hear the rest of their fascinating conversation once he’d warmed up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you're having SO much fun writing dialogue between Arya and Brienne that you have to spread it over two chapters. I hope you can indulge me!


	15. Chapter 15

Given that he had no plans to leave his flat, perhaps ever with how things had been going, Gendry let himself stand under blistering hot water for an eon then donned an ancient pair of fleecy tracksuit pants with some holes around the knees, a thick pair of woollen socks, and his Riverlands Rowing hoodie. That done, he carried his laptop to the lounge and made himself comfortable.

After watching the first half of the conversation he felt mildly cheapened by the female gaze but increasingly hopeful. Who knew what these two terrifying women would say about him next?

He started the video again in time to hear Brienne saying, “Tell me about the weekend. What happened between you two?”

“Gendry was super impressive at the regatta,” Arya said. “And I sat down with Davos and Marya, my predecessor and his wife, and instead of having one of those potentially passive aggressive conversations that was really about which one of us was the better principal, we all just talked about how much we loved Gendry for about twenty minutes.”

“They obviously like the idea of the two of you together if they enlisted you to get him his new suit.”

“Mmm,” Arya agreed. “I think there might have been a little bit of match-making going on on their part.”

“And then the two of you raced together? Is that right?”

Arya’s triumphant grin at the thought of it caused a smile to appear on Gendry’s face also.

“The rowers knew Gendry was coaching me. They insisted that we participate in the Staff Vs Student race at the end of Riverrun. We came a very calculated second place,” she said proudly. “And then the kids swam over and capsized us.”

Brienne looked scandalised. “Students at the Winterfell School would  _ never _ have done something like that!”

“That’s just one of the many reasons I think Riverlands Grammar is suiting me so well.”

“So the next day you two went shopping and we’ve all seen the photos. Looks like you were having fun until Jeyne Poole stuck her oar in.”

Gendry could see Arya gritting her teeth. 

“Honestly, I’d almost forgotten that girl existed after Sansa saw her for what she was and ended their friendship. She’ll be livid when I send her the article.” Her face suddenly softened. “But being there with Gendry, that was lovely. And  _ gods _ , the man can fill out a suit!”

Brienne picked up a copy of the Gazette and tossed it to her. “Even without the words, I think the whole Riverlands would know about your crush on him after those photos.  _ And _ we can all see that it’s wholeheartedly reciprocated.”

Arya looked closely at the photos. “I was so angry about Jeyne that I didn’t really pay attention to the images.” She laughed fondly to herself. “Oh, look at him, grinning down at me like the darling, sweet idiot he is.”

“And you’d had breakfast together before this, right?”

“Yep,” Arya nodded. “During which I pretty much proposed and he graciously accepted.”

“In a purely platonic manner, I assume? Much as you’ve done to me in the past?”

“Well, yes, but though you are a knock-out, Bri, Gendry is a little bit more my type. So I can’t say my proposal was intended  _ purely _ platonically. Though of course that’s how I expressed it!”

“Oh, bless. He said he’d be your wife?”

“I hope you’re not offended, Bri. You are my first wife, after all.”

Brienne laughed. “Build yourself a harem, Arya. This wife needs all the help she can get right now!”

“I thought that’s how you’d feel. But honestly, it’s only the two of you, I promise.”

“Funny that it’s your same-sex spouse causing you the least amount of outrage.”

Arya nodded faux sagely. “What can I say? The world is changing. No, really. I was just having my usual whinge about how men who have wives to manage everything else in their lives get it so much easier.”

“And he volunteered to come to your aid?”

“He did. And he was very sweet and sincere about it. He even let me practice my speech on him for the dinner as he drove us back to school afterwards.”

“But you left out the big announcement?”’

“Well, I wanted him to hear that in front of everybody. He’d probably refuse to believe it otherwise.”

“Do you think he believes it even after he did hear it in front of everybody?”

Arya laughed. “Nope! At least not in any way that he knows what to do with.”

“What did he say to you about it after?”

“He just sort of blinked at me and stuttered. He said thank you a lot, no matter how many times I explained that  _ I _ was trying to thank  _ him _ .”

“I suppose it’s a lot for him to take in.”

“So we went rowing instead.”

“You what?” Brienne asked. “Was this at the after party? With all the coaches?”

“This was  _ after _ the after party, after everyone else had left - just him and me out on the river in the moonlight.”

“Sounds rather romantic.”

Arya picked up a cushion from beside her in the armchair and held it to her chest, her expression dreamy. “It  _ was _ romantic,” she sighed. “And when we got back to the dock and he helped me out of the scull, I was just confessing that I  _ liked _ him and he pulled me into his arms and just held me for the longest time. It makes me want to melt just thinking about it.”

The blissful look on her face at the recollection of simply being held by him convinced Gendry more than anything else she had said that his feelings for her were thoroughly requited.

“A hug?” Brienne asked her flatly. “Is that all you have for me?”

“No,” replied Arya, her smile coy. “Later he kissed me.”

The taller woman grinned. “And how was that?”

Arya let her head fall back against the back of the armchair. “Divine,” she whispered, her voice so husky and low that Gendry had to rewind the video more than a few times in order to ensure that he’d fully appreciated it.

“So how did you leave things with him?” Brienne was asking when he finally let the video play on.

“That I would go home and get some sleep and then head back to his so we could spend the rest of our day off together.”

“I wonder what he was planning?”

Arya sighed. “I’ll admit, I’ve spent probably far too long imagining that myself. All I knew was that it was going to start with brunch.”

“Are you falling in love with him?”

The direct question seemed to come from nowhere. 

Arya blinked rapidly.

Gendry drew in a sharp breath, waiting for her reply.

She clutched the cushion closer to her chest a moment before looking up at Brienne and almost imperceptibly nodding her head.

Gendry could barely believe what he was seeing. He replayed that moment over and over, each time letting her silent admission sink in further.

“And if it’s a choice between Gendry and the job?” Brienne pressed.

“That’s no choice at all!” Arya cried. “If I lose the job, I lose Gendry anyway! I can hardly ask him to give up everything he’s worked for at Riverlands to follow the one who jeopardised it all for him in the first place. Can’t you see, Bri? Me fighting to keep my job here is my way of fighting for him too. If I can ride this out with my dignity intact, prove that Jeyne’s claims were spurious, then his position and his dignity can be salvaged too.”

Brienne contemplated Arya a moment, her head cocked to one side. “I think you should let him see this.”

Arya looked back at her confused. “See what?”

“Our conversation, silly. So he can know that you’re not giving up on him.”

Arya looked horrified. “But think about all the things we’ve said about him! About his body, particularly! He’ll feel like a piece of meat!”

“We only said highly complimentary things about his body. Besides,” Brienne laughed, “Do men traditionally mind that sort of thing?” 

“Blatant objectification, you mean? I have no idea. I don’t want him to think I only want him for how he looks.”

Brienne raised a single eyebrow. “After all that you’ve said to his face? To the school board? At the dinner? I don’t think he’ll make that mistake, do you?”

Arya dropped her chin onto the cushion in her arms.

“Think about it, Arya,” Brienne coaxed. “How else will Gendry get to know what’s in your head?”

Arya gnawed on her lip for a moment and then turned directly to the camera in a way that made Gendry feel like she was suddenly looking into his soul.

“I hope we don’t have to wait too long to see one another after you’ve watched this, Gendry. I guess we have a fair bit to talk about.”

Brienne got daintily to her feet and walked towards the camera.

The screen went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are darlings!


	16. Chapter 16

Gendry realised he was ravenous. He ate whatever fell out of the fridge and into his hands. The week had taken yet another bizarre turn and if he played his cards right, he and Arya could be together before the end of the day, even if it would have to be under the cover of secrecy. 

The raft of feelings he was managing now were so entirely different to the feelings he’d been managing for the few days prior that he barely knew what to do with himself. Of course he went back and rewatched his favourite moments from the video a few more times. And then a few times more. But at last he settled down to the next item from Arya’s envelope: three editions of the Riverlands Gazette that had not made their way to his front door because the relevant sections were not accompanied by photographs. His suspicions about Hodor’s literacy were confirmed.

As directed by the hand-written note attached, Gendry flicked through the first paper, Tuesday’s edition, and turned to the Letters to the Editor. After a quick scan of the page he grabbed for the Wednesday and Thursday editions and laid their Letters sections out across the table. It was a revelation. A mere selection of them read:

_To the editor:_

_I would like to share my dismay at the Gazette’s decision to publish such unseemly and unsubstantiated gossip in an attempt to tarnish the reputations of two highly respected professionals connected to Riverlands Grammar School. Henceforth this paper goes straight into the recycling bin._

Khal Drogo, Riverlands Parent

_To the editor:_

_What business is it of the Gazette or anyone in the Riverlands to know how Riverlands Grammar staff spend their spare time? Deeply disappointed in the integrity of this publication._

Daario Naharis, Riverlands Parent

_To the editor:_

_If Jeyne Poole is not actually in breach of the law she should certainly have been regarded as being in breach of the bounds of good taste. Shame on you, Riverlands Gazette, for publishing such malicious lies._

Oberyn Martell, Riverlands Parent

_To the editor:_

_Dr Arya Stark is a wonderful new addition to the Riverlands Grammar community. If she wants to go shopping with our excellent Director of Rowing, Mr Gendry Waters, the man your very publication was falling over itself to celebrate just twenty-four hours prior, that is their business. Outrageous waste of space on the front page. Ms Poole should be sent packing._

Stannis Baratheon, Riverlands Parent and Head of the School Board

_To the editor:_

_Though I am now inclined to doubt EVERY claim made by the Riverlands Gazette, if it is true that Arya Stark and Gendry Waters are involved in a romantic relationship, good on them. Both of them are magnificent role models for young people both in their previous stellar athletic careers and in their highly respected roles in education. Why shouldn’t they be allowed to share the many things that they have in common and enjoy a private life? I am deeply disappointed by the decisions of my local news outlet._

Gilly Tarly, Riverlands Parent

_To the editor:_

_Mr Gendry Waters is the best rowing coach Riverlands Grammar has ever seen. How dare the Gazette attempt to suggest that his background defines his future. If anything, Mr Waters is an inspiration to anyone who might have had a hard start in life and he should be congratulated for the determination that has gotten him to his position of respect and influence._

Jojen Reed, Riverlands Student

_To the editor:_

_The Riverlands Grammar School Board would surely be considering taking legal action against the Gazette given their poor choice of front page news this week. I would encourage the paper to assemble their legal team as soon as possible._

Jorah Mormont, Riverlands Resident

But Gendry’s favourite letter read thus:

_To the editor:_

_Revered former principal, eh? I never thought I’d see the day that the Gazette would stoop so low as to publish such unmitigated tripe. Dr Arya Stark is the very best person to see my beloved Grammar into the next phase of its life. She is uniquely gifted and experienced and I have absolutely every faith in her. Riverlands Grammar could not be in better hands. The lies the Gazette has allowed to be published about her should be a deep source of shame. As for what was written about my good friend, Mr Gendry Waters, I can barely contain my outrage. If only all young people could have in their lives someone who has overcome so much and achieved such a great deal by the force of their own sheer grit and determination. Had I had children of my own, I would have fought to have a man like Mr Waters as one of their main influences. As it is, I think of Gendry as if he were my very own flesh and blood and love him like the son I never had. If he and Dr Stark should be developing a personal friendship, that should come as no surprise to anyone. It is rare that such accomplished athletes and dedicated educators would come across another person with whom they share so many extraordinary life experiences. I wish each of them every joy. From this day on, the Riverlands Gazette will only serve to line the bottom of my wife’s birdcages._

Davos Seaworth, Former Riverlands Grammar Principal

He had to wipe away tears after reading that.

Not a single letter defended the choice of the paper to publish the story and as the days went on, the letters calling for Jeyne Poole to be fired became more and more demanding. Now Gendry understood what Brienne meant when she encouraged Arya that things would be ok saying “You’ve seen the letters.” It appeared that this Ms Poole’s attempt to malign and discredit the pair of them was an abject failure. 

Rather than turning their backs on Gendry and Arya, if anything the Riverlands community had been more deeply galvanised and united in their support of them, more or less declaring their right to pursue a relationship if it suited them.

Gendry grinned to himself. Maybe things really were going to be alright. 

A long-lost shaft of sunlight fell across the newspapers in front of him and drew his eyes to the window. While he’d been reading, the Riverlands winds had whipped up and were driving the rain clouds away, leaving behind them an expanse of clear blue sky.

He turned to the final item included, the unmarked envelope, and opened it up.

Inside was a hand-written letter.

_Dear Gendry,_

_I wonder what on earth you’re thinking now that you’ve watched that silly video of Brienne and I and read those letters to the Gazette._

_I know what I_ hope _you’re thinking._

_I have some important questions, Gendry, and how you answer them really makes a difference to what happens next._

_I hope you know that I want to be with you._

_I suppose you have a decision to make. Do you want to be with me?_

_I can’t even imagine all the hoops we’ll be made to jump through and I don’t anticipate it will be easy but I’d like to think it will be worth it._

_Let yourself think about it overnight. Don’t rush anything, but when you know, you can call Brienne’s personal cell phone number. Her card is attached to this letter. She’ll smuggle you over here somehow so we can talk._

_Love Arya xxx_

Gendry was kicking himself as he jumped out of his seat and scrambled for his phone. Why hadn’t he skipped to the last envelope first? As enjoyable as it had been to watch the video and as bolstering as it had been to read all those letters, he didn’t need a single shred of it to know that if Arya was willing, he was ready to dive headfirst into whatever might happen next.

He frantically dialled the number on Brienne’s card, tapping his foot impatiently while he waited for her to pick up.

At last she answered the phone. “Brienne Tarth.”

“Ms Tarth,” he said urgently. “It’s Gendry.”

He could hear her smile through the phone. “I told Arya you wouldn’t need long to think it over.”

“Can I see her? Please?”

“This evening?” she asked calmly, but Gendry swore he heard a whoop of delight in the background.

“If I can,” he replied.

“Of course, Mr Waters,” she said warmly. “As you can probably hear, Arya’s quite beside herself with excitement at the idea of cooking dinner for the pair of you at her residence tonight. But might I propose a somewhat unorthodox method of transport?”

“Anything,” he said eagerly, wondering if it might involve him clambering into the trunk of Brienne’s black sedan like some sort of international spy.

“As you row every morning, have you ever noticed a number of somewhat tumbledown jetties leading into undergrowth on the school side of the riverbank?”

“Yeah, I know them,” Gendry said quickly, visualising that particularly picturesque stretch of river that meandered through the extensive school grounds.

“I did bravely don my galoshes this morning and had a little bit of a ramble in the gardens of the Principal’s Residence. I discovered that one of those jetties must have once upon a time been for the principal’s personal use. Though it isn’t a very handsome structure, I can assure you that it’s perfectly secure. From there is a little path through the undergrowth that leads up to Arya’s kitchen door. Arya and I were wondering if perhaps as dusk falls, you might be happy to row downstream to the house. We’ll mark the jetty you need with a lantern so that you can find it. It’ll just allow you to arrive and leave undetected which, of course, we hope will only be a short-term requirement.”

Gendry grinned to himself. This plan was _way_ better than having to wait for Brienne to pick him up and smuggle him into the Principal’s Residence.

“I suppose I’ll be seeing you tonight then, Ms Tarth,” he said cheerfully.

“Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “Did you particularly need to see _me_ , Mr Waters? It’s just that I imagined you and Arya would probably appreciate some privacy after your ordeal with the media. I had planned to return to my own accomodation for the evening and get on with some paperwork.”

Gendry could barely believe what he was hearing. He found himself doing a little celebratory dance on the spot. The whole evening alone with Arya! 

“That makes total sense, Ms Tarth,” he enthused. “And it’s Friday night! Of course you should take the opportunity to have a little time to yourself. You’ve barely had a chance to settle into the Riverlands yet.”

“I thank you for your understanding, Mr Waters,” she said wryly. “And I do hope you and Arya have a lovely evening.”

“We will, Ms Tarth,” he assured her. “We definitely will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn't get anything like the proofread and editing it probably needs but I feel like I'm letting you down for being a few hours off schedule! Crazy day! Let me know if you spot weird typos...


	17. Chapter 17

Filling the remaining hours of sunlight without climbing out of his skin had posed an almost insurmountable challenge. Gendry had spent it with the school directory in front of him, calling each of the individuals who’d had letters published in the Gazette to personally thank them for their support. The first person he’d called had been Davos.

“Davos? It’s me, Gendry.”

“Ah, lad. What an ordeal you’ve been through. I’m so very sorry. Marya and I shouldn’t have meddled.”

“Don’t apologise!” Gendry laughed. “Your little nudge was very much appreciated. None of us suspected things unfolding as they did. Besides, I think it might be ok between Arya and I. Good, even.”

“Oh, I’m relieved to hear that. I was worried we’d gone and royally mucked it up for you.”

“I just wanted to call to thank you, for everything really. But especially for your support. That letter-”

“-It’s nothing less than you deserve, son.” The old man sounded choked up. “And I really couldn’t be prouder of you if you _were_ my own flesh and blood.”

It took Gendry a moment to find his own voice. “Come and drink some of your scotch with me again soon, won’t you?”

“Love to, son. Let me know when it’s all square with that wolf woman of yours and I’ll be over in a heartbeat.”

Gendry grinned into the phone. “Will do, Davos. Give my love to Marya.”

At last he finished his calls just as the cerulean of the Riverlands sky was deepening to a satisfying azure. Knowing it always got chilly on the water, Gendry pulled his white woollen sweater over his head and grabbed the bottle of red he’d selected before jogging down the steps to the boatshed and yanking out his single scull.

Other than that night with Arya under the full moon, Gendry doubted he’d ever seen the river look more beautiful than it did on his way to her at dusk, bright stars beginning to appear over head, twinkling at him through the leafy canopy above. Despite the loveliness around him, he forced himself to stay focused, concerned he might miss the lantern if he didn’t keep his wits about him. 

It wasn’t long before he rounded a bend in the river and spotted a warm light beckoning him towards it. As he drew nearer, his heart leapt into his throat. There was Arya, dressed casually in jeans and a navy turtleneck, her feet bare, perched on the end of the jetty with a book waiting for him.

Gendry was not unaccustomed to guiding boats into dock but it was made particularly challenging by the fact that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Arya’s face or the soft smile she had for him as he drew nearer. She padded along the jetty above him, holding out the lantern, as he finally managed to dig his oars in and guide the scull up onto the bank, leaping over the bow without even getting his shoes wet.

“Is this a dream?” he whispered up to her as he dragged the scull into the undergrowth and out of sight.

“Might be,” she agreed, putting down her book and the lantern where the worn wood of the jetty met the unkempt grass and waiting for him as he clambered up the incline towards her.

Giddy with glee, Gendry rolled his bottle of wine onto the lawn, picked up speed and half-tackled her, lifting her up into his arms and spinning her around.

Arya’s laugh was like music as she threw her arms around his neck and clung on tight.

“Our first dinner date,” he announced delightedly, unable to stop grinning, carefully putting her back down but keeping her encircled in his arms.

“I know,” she said ruefully, smiling up at him. “But I’m cooking so don’t get too excited.”

“Too late,” he laughed. “This is easily the best thing that’s happened to me all week.”

Arya let her arms slip from around his neck and entwined the fingers of one hand with his while scooping up the lantern with the other.

“That’s not saying much,” she said, pulling him gently towards the house. “It’s been a truly awful week.” 

Gendry glanced down at her hand in his as he stooped to retrieve the wine. “But it’s suddenly taken this dramatic turn for the better, don’t you think?”

She turned back to flash him that soft smile again as she pushed the door open and led him into the house.

“Woh,” Gendry said, stuttering to a halt as soon as he stepped inside. He put the bottle of wine down on the bench and turned slowly on the spot, taking in his surroundings. “I barely recognise the place!”

Arya laughed. “I guess Marya and I have slightly different taste in interior design.”

Gendry laughed. “You can say that again. Last time I was in here there was a doily on every surface.” His eyes were drawn to the walls where a huge array of elaborate and deadly looking swords were decoratively displayed. “Yeah, and she went with a few less terrifying blades.”

“Huh,” said Arya, smirking. “Each to their own, I guess.”

“I guess,” Gendry laughed. He breathed in deeply. “Something smells really good in here,” he said. “What are you cooking?”

“I’m trying a baked spaghetti marinara,” she said hesitantly. “You know, lots of oysters, clams and cockles. And garlic. _Lots_ of that. Sound ok?”

“Sounds perfect,” he assured her. “Shall I open the wine?”

She handed him a corkscrew and reached up to fetch some glasses from a cupboard above the bench. Gendry tried not to get caught watching the way the hem of her sweater rode up to reveal a hint of toned stomach. He suddenly felt the warmth of the post-rain summer night and realised he was still wearing his woollen sweater. He reached behind him to grab the scruff of it and yanked it over his head, draping it over a chair. 

He couldn’t help but notice Arya’s attention seemed very focused on where his own jumper had ridden up, exposing half his back and torso.

“Hey, Arya, my eyes are up here,” he joked, tugging the hem of his t-shirt back over the waistband of his jeans as she slid the glasses towards him.

She laughed sheepishly, dropping her head into her hands. “I can’t blame you for that after what we said about you on that video!”

Gendry grinned. “Brienn’s hunch was right though, I did not mind it one little bit!”

“Well, that’s a relief. Dinner will be a few more minutes. Want a tour?” she asked as he poured her a glass and handed it to her.

“Sure,” Gendry agreed, picking up his own glass to follow her out of the kitchen.

She led him through a newly white high-ceilinged hallway, dotted with brightly coloured whimsical artworks, into a room Gendry remembered as being predominantly decorated in pale pink and lace. Arya had painted the walls a deep green up to the moulded picture rails, causing the high white ceilings to pop and showcasing three antique-looking bronze chandeliers. Elaborate bronze-framed mirrors dotted the walls, reflecting the glossy leaves of a bank of potted dwarf fig trees. Beneath them plush, deep green velvet lounges were arranged around a thick grey Flokati wool rug.

“Wow,” Gendry breathed. “What do you do in here?”

“It’s _supposed_ to be the formal lounge for when I host official school functions,” she replied. “But mostly I keep the doors closed. I’m too afraid I’ll spill something on that rug that will never come out.”

Gendry laughed, remembering attending a few of those functions when Davos and Marya had lived there. Arya’s decor projected a _very_ different vibe.

“Hang on a minute,” he said accusingly, “How are you keeping these plants alive?”

“They were chosen because they’re supposed to be difficult to kill,” replied Arya defensively. “Even then, the gardeners have to come in and deal with them. I like them a lot but I try not to get involved.”

“Sounds wise,” Gendry chuckled.

She led him back into the hallway towards the other end of the gallery-style room where she slid open double doors that revealed what was obviously her home office.

“This is where the magic happens?” he asked cheekily, earning himself a half-hearted punch directed towards his kidneys.

At the back of the room, floor to ceiling bookshelves dominated, painted in a stylish shade of navy blue. The external wall was almost all panes of glass framed with white linen curtains and, though it was dark outside, Gendry could picture the view into the gardens beyond even if he could no longer remember how the room had looked in Davos’ day. In front of the bookshelves stood a solid looking desktop held up by a simple, geometric frame. 

“Oh!” said Arya, spotting a copy of the Gazette on the desk. “I can’t believe I didn’t lead with this!” She handed it to him, grinning.

Gendry unfolded the paper. The headline screamed “GAZETTE EDITORS FIRE ROGUE JOURNALIST, APOLOGISE TO RIVERLANDS GRAMMAR COMMUNITY.”

“So it’s over?” he asked. “Just like that?”

Arya shrugged. “Our lawyers are still pursuing it, but yeah, this is an acknowledgement that the scandal they reported was no scandal at all.”

“So we don’t really need to be secretive about anything then?” Gendry asked eagerly.

“Well, that’s where things get a little bit trickier,” she said ruefully. “Now the whole school community knows, or at the very least suspects, that you and I are…you know...” she trailed off.

Gendry waggled his eyebrows playfully. “Involved? Dating?” He clasped his joined hands to his chest. “Romantically intertwined?”

Arya laughed. “Something along those lines. And though they were mostly willing to stick up for us, and defend what they felt to be attacks against our characters, now that this sort of attention has unfortunately been drawn to us, the School Board would understandably appreciate it if we were _very_ discreet as we go forward.”

Gendry nodded. “I think we can work with that. Don’t you?”

Arya nodded, her smile hesitant. “Yeah, I hope we can.”

“Did you have to talk about it to the whole school at all?”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s hardly like I could pretend nothing had happened. Thankfully I could keep it fairly vague. When I addressed the assembly I simply said that there were legal proceedings underway so I couldn’t discuss particulars. However, I did take the teaching moment it presented to talk about those times in your life when people tell lies about you and the various different ways you can respond.”

Gendry laughed. “Did you hint that one of the different ways you were thinking about responding was by skewering the person on the end of one of your sabres?”

“I did say it was important to find healthy outlets for your anger,” she replied primly. “I didn’t go into the specifics of precisely what my anger had led me to imagine carrying out.”

“So what did you do to let off steam?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Brienne and I did a _lot_ of sparring,” Arya replied. “Yet another reason why I’ve really missed her.”

Gendry pictured statuesque Brienne standing next to petite Arya. Then he pictured them with swords. Then he remembered watching Arya fight on the TV all those years before and how relentless she was with a blade.

“She can hold her own against you then?” he asked.

Arya grinned. “Just. She’s a good sport about it.”

Gendry’s eye was drawn to a number of framed photos on the walls of Arya and her family. He recognised Jon straight away and it wasn’t hard to guess who the rest of them were.

“This is the sister who sends you the gowns?” he asked, pointing to the tall auburn-haired woman.

“Sansa, yeah. Need anything? I can send her your measurements.”

Gendry chuckled. “As long as she only sends me gowns with pockets. I won’t stand for anything less.”

Arya laughed.

“Thank her for me though, won’t you.”

“Thank her? For what?”

Gendry smiled softly. “For that red one you wore to the dinner. Reminiscing about the sight of you in that gown has cheered me up during some pretty dark moments this week.”

Arya looked back at him doubtfully.

“What?” he asked playfully. “You and Brienne are allowed to discuss all my physical attributes at _considerable_ length and I’m not allowed to even _imply_ that you’re beautiful?”

She looked down awkwardly. “So you don’t think I’m repulsive?”

Gendry was so surprised, his mouth fell open in shock. “You? Repulsive? Where on earth did you get that idea?”

“Same place I got Arya “Horseface” Stark and the idea of having to bribe my colleagues to want to spend time with me.”

“Arya,” Gendry said sternly. “You didn’t believe any of that crap did you?”

“Did you believe anything it said about you?” she countered archly.

Gendry felt his shoulders slump. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I did.”

“Which bits?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face and flatly recited the slurs that had been rattling around in his head all week. “Base-born. Powerless. Hapless bastard.” He paused. “And you want to know the one that haunted me most?”

Arya nodded.

“Beneath you.”

Arya carefully placed her wine glass down on her desk and relieved him of his, setting it alongside her own. She gently took each of his hands in hers and lifted them one by one to her lips, placing a soft kiss on his knuckles, her grey eyes gazing unflinchingly into his. 

“None of those things are true, Gendry.”

“Well,” he argued, inwardly cursing himself for not being able to just skip it for once and kiss her like she was clearly inviting him to do. “Actually they are. I _am_ baseborn, Arya. I _am_ a bastard. To anyone trying to pick a suitable match for you, I _am_ beneath you.”

Arya let go of his hands, her eyes flashing. “As it happens, Gendry, when I go through the process of employing that person, the one to whom I entrust the task of _picking a suitable match for me_ as you so eloquently put it, I’ll try to choose someone who lives in the same millenia as I do.”

She snatched up her wine glass and stalked back to the kitchen.

Gendry grabbed his own glass and hurried after her.

“Arya, I’m sorry. That came out all wrong,” he pleaded.

She was already at the oven, lifting out hot dishes so he was forced to keep his distance.

“Look,” she said, huffing out a breath. “Can you just shut up and let me forget how much of an idiot you are for a moment so we can try to have a nice dinner?”

Gendry laughed, relieved. “And I’ll do my best to forget how much of an idiot you are for ever doubting that I find you compellingly, irresistibly, overwhelmingly attractive.”

She smiled at that, seemingly satisfied, and started giving him orders about where to find plates so she could serve dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we've had a good run of daily updates but today marks the first day I'm posting a chapter without having a fully finished one waiting in the wings for tomorrow. Also, in the bit I just wrote I surprised myself with an utterly unseen (but I think fun) plot development that I better give some thought to. Also, sadly, life is about to get in the way of my 1500-words-a-day fanfic habit. So unless something amazing happens it may be a day or two or three before you get to see what happens next. Sorry about that. Love to hear from you if you're enjoying this! Your kind enthusiasm is always the thing that makes me go "Surely I can find a minute or two to write some more!"

**Author's Note:**

> Because I felt like I needed to write about Gendry rowing. For reasons.


End file.
